


Take These Marks Away From Me

by benchofindigo



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-05-28 02:42:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 39,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6312235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benchofindigo/pseuds/benchofindigo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>British society no longer puts value in romantic soulmates, sometimes going to drastic measures to make sure soulmates never meet.</p><p>James McGraw has three problems:<br/>First, he is about to meet Thomas Hamilton, the person whose name is engraved on his wrist.<br/>Second, his higher ups do not know this.<br/>Third, Thomas Hamilton is not the only name written on said wrist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Messed up soulmate fic that no one asked for... will see how it goes!  
> Just an introductory chapter to start out :)

"James, come in." Admiral Hennessey said.

James got up and entered the office. Admiral Hennessey was accompanied by two other high ranking navy officers, both of whom gave him looks of degradation. Just another normal day at the Royal Navy then.

"Is there a problem?" He asked, making sure to stand up straight, hands clasped behind his back. He would not give them reason to mark him for insubordination.

"Oh not at all! We just have a task for you."

James tilted his head. Whatever task they wished to assign him was obviously something they themselves did not wish to do.

"As you know." Hennessey continued. "Nassau has become quite a problem."

James nodded his head. The pirates there had gotten out of control, and the governor had lost his hold on the place. A disgrace if James did say so.

"London has decided that this problem needs to be addressed and Lord Hamilton has ordered his son, Thomas Hamilton, to come up with a solution."

James froze, his fingers itched to grab his left wrist, but he refrained himself. They couldn't know. He was too careful.

"We think that you would be a good candidate to work with him to help inform him of the full situation in Nassau, so that he can be well educated when coming up with a proper solution."

James could not believe his ears. "You want me to work with this... Lord Hamilton?"

"Yes, I think you are up to the task, don't you?"

"Ah yes. Of course. Thank you."

"We'll be back in London tomorrow; you can meet up with him then. Unfortunately, you'll be grounded for a couple of months as you work with him, but don't worry, you'll be back out in the seas soon enough." Hennessey joked.

James nodded his head, mind still racing. "Of course sir. Thank you, sir."

Hennessey came over and clapped him on the shoulder. "Do us proud James. Do us proud."

James gave another nod of his head then quickly left the office. Hurrying below to he hull, he crouched behind a barrel. He yanked back his sleeve and rubbed at the coal marks smeared across his skin. After awhile the black letters made themselves visible on his skin. Thomas Hamilton.

James leaned his head back, breathing heavily. He had no idea what he was supposed to do. They couldn't have known of this or they would never had allowed them to meet, let alone work together. That meant that Thomas' mark was not known either.

James knew that most noble and bourgeoisie families burned the skin around their children's mark, effectively getting rid of the name, so that they could then plan arranged marriages. It would not do to have their heir be soulmates with a peasant. Funny how that is what basically is happening with this Thomas person and him.

His heart started beating faster at the thought of meeting his soulmate... well one of them, but he quickly pushed that thought out of his mind. What would he be like? Would he be kind? Stand offish? Quiet? Hopefully they would get along, they were soulmates after all. Actually, the biggest problem was getting along too well.

His father had warned him of the problems that could arise if people saw the marks on his wrist. That was why he always covered then up. That and the fact that they were sort of looked down upon in British society. Platonic soul mates were fine, which were located on the right wrist, while romantic ones were on the left. James had two platonic soulmates, which was not necessarily common, but not unheard of. What was unheard of was having two romantic soulmates, which was what James also had. Worse still, both of those marks were names of men.

That was why he always kept them hidden. His father had wanted to burn them off, but he understood that it was James’ decision to make. James had felt it unholy to remove that which marked the completion of one’s soul, so he had decided to just cover them up instead. Now James didn't know if that was a smart decision or not.

He quickly scratched up some dirt that lined the ship’s walls and smeared it on his wrist. It would have to do for now until he could reach some coal. He did not dare leave it uncovered, even for a second. It was too risky, especially now.

Despite being terrified of the prospect of meeting his soulmate he would forever regret giving up such a scarce opportunity. It was so rare nowadays to hear stories of people meeting and ending up with their soulmates. It was almost frowned upon in society. Flint knew better. His parents had been soulmates, and while they had been alive they had loved each other dearly. Flint wanted that.

The fact that he had two constantly haunted him, but he wouldn’t think about that now. Right now he had to focus on not disappointing one of them.


	2. Finding Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to format it as little snippets of James' life, like we see in the show. I'm not quite certain about how it turned out, but I hope you guys like it :) Dialogue from the show is included in the fic, so hopefully I got it right, but if any of you notice a mistake, let me know!

James made sure that his uniform was clean and impeccable, his hair-tie perfectly in place, and his hat on straight. It was important to make a good first impression.

Questions ran through James’ mind as his carriage made its way to the courtyard where he would meet Lord Hamilton. Did he get to see the name on his wrist before it was burned off? … assuming that it was burned off. What would he think about having a male as a soulmate? What did he think of soulmates in general?

After making a few inquiries he was pointed to a man in a brown wig talking to another man. He ordered the carriage to be brought around and steeled himself for the meeting. Gathering one final breath to steady his nerves, he strode up to the other man, making sure that his back was straight.

“Lord Thomas Hamilton.”

There was no recognition or expectation in Thomas Hamilton’s face, which led James to assume that he did not recognize him as his soulmate. A sly glace down confirmed James’ suspicions. A harsh dark pink scar lined his wrist, effectively eliminating whatever name had once been there.

James was not sure whether to be disappointed or relieved.

First impressions led James to believe that Lord Hamilton was like many other high class individuals. He believed himself to be above others and that his self-worth was more important than those under him. It disappointed James to say the least. He would have hopped that his soulmate would be better than that. Still, nonetheless, he did seem polite enough and was certainly smart. That was a bonus.

They stopped walking and Lord Hamilton made a statement about his… lack of education so to speak.

James bristled. Once again he would have to prove himself to those higher up than he was, and who thought he was lacking because of his roots. It was a maddening process, but a required one in British society, or so it seemed. “Not really, perhaps my lack of education is showing.”

To his surprise Lord Hamilton gave a little half smile, half sigh. “I intend to accomplish something here Lieutenant. I intend to save Nassau before she’s lost forever, and I cannot do that with a partner who is more concerned about advancing his career than he is about realizing this goal.”

James, to say the least, was surprised. He may have to start rethinking this Hamilton fellow.

+

They had spent the rest of the afternoon going over the Nassau situation. Lord Hamilton was very attentive and curious about what James had to say. He was respectful and asked questions that made James give pause before he could provide the answer. James could hardly recall a time when he had had such an enlightening and educated conversation with someone.

After awhile, Lord Hamilton invited him to a high end restaurant, such of the likes James had never been in before.

“Don’t worry, I will cover the meal.”

James’ lips thinned. “You don’t have to…”

Lord Hamilton smiled. “Relax, I do not think low of you for not having the funds. Besides, I know the owner of this place.”

“Very well My Lord.”

“Now now, enough of this my lord stuff. Call me Thomas. We are to be partners are we not?”

The corner of James’ mouth quirked up. “Very well Thomas.” He lifted up his glass of water. “To our partnership.”

“To our partnership.” Thomas replied, lifting his glass as well. As he put the glass back down on the table he looked over James curiously. “I can’t help but feel…”

“What?”

Thomas paused, then shook his head. “Nothing, just a stray thought. Now you were saying that the civilians of Nassau feel trapped. Tell me more about this.”

James couldn’t help but wonder what Thomas had been meaning to say, but he would ponder that later. For now, he had business to do.

+

James felt a bit sardonic taking Thomas to a hanging. Thomas was obviously uncomfortable with the whole procedure, his body posture all stiff and face tense, but James had insisted that he come.

This was something that James was used to. Being in the navy, it was quite often that they ended up at a port where a criminal was hanged for some reason or the other. As always, the hanging was accompanied by a crowd of jeering individuals, none of them seeing what was wrong with this scene. It was the crowd that James wanted Thomas to see.

“Civilization needs its monsters.” James said.

“You think Whitehall wants piracy to flourish in the Bahamas?” Thomas asked.

“No, I don’t think they want it, but I think they are aware of the cost associated with trying to fight it. And I think that that sound… travels. You’re an educated man My Lord, but I think it worth reminding you that in most cases a man trying to change the world, fails for one simple yet unavoidable reason. Everyone else.”

Thomas’ eyes alighted in understanding. James could tell that he didn’t necessarily like it, but he understood.

The man being hung finally stopped twitching and his body was drawn back up. James quickly grabbed Thomas’ arm and pulled him away. They wouldn’t want to be caught in the mob of adrenaline filled peasants who believed that they could defeat anything, as what was often the sentiment that surrounded these people after lynches.

It was the first time he had prolonged contact with Thomas and his heart started irrationally beating faster. This past week had been an enlightening experience for James. He could now firmly see why Thomas was his romantic soulmate. The problem of course being that he could not in any way show this. This was a business partnership nothing more.

Still, that didn’t stop James from enjoying the heat of Thomas’ arm as he pulled him through the crowd to a less crowded street.

He turned to Thomas, who still looked a bit queasy. He obviously had not been to many hangings, if any.

“Come, I know a little pub down the street here. You look like you could use a drink.”

Thomas nodded his head and so James led them down the street. They were almost there when James realized that he was still holding onto Thomas’ arm. Blushing he quickly let go. “Why don’t you go get a seat while I’ll order the drinks.” James said awkwardly before rushing off before Thomas could reply.

James had to get a hold of himself. He was here to help Thomas with Nassau, that was it. There was no possible way that he could form any other type of relationship with him. Thomas was married for god’s sake! James may not be a charitable man, but he was not a home wrecker.

Gathering up the ales he made his way back to the table which Thomas had chosen. “I’m sorry you had to see that, but I thought it was imperative for you to understand.”

Thomas gave a sad smile. “Don’t worry. I should not have been so shocked by the spectacle. My father and his men would talk about such hangings often, I just never felt the desire to attend one. Perhaps I should have.”

James smiled. He liked the fact that Thomas had not wanted to see the needless spectacle that was made out of killing someone. People should at least have the chance to die with dignity. “Well, let’s put aside such dreary thoughts for now and just enjoy our drinks.”

Thomas looked down at his glass with a smile and raised it up. “I agree.” He took a sip, then paused, looking over at James curiously. It made James feel very exposed for some reason.

“I hold discussion sessions at my place in the afternoons on Thursdays. I’m having one tonight, if you want to come.”

“Discussion sessions on what?”

“Oh whatever seems important for the day. Sometimes it’s about religion, sometimes capitalism, sometimes the pursuit for a better world. It’s always very enlightening I find.”

James lifted the corner of his mouth. Though it was probably wise not to delve deeper into Thomas’ affairs, he couldn’t help himself. He felt himself sink deeper with every minute he spent with this man. “I would be delighted.”

+

They were down by the docks. Thomas had to talk with some merchant or other and so James stayed to the side.

His eyes raised in surprise when Thomas handed over a coin to a poor boy and his mother. Such kindness was rare in this world.

"I rather envy you."

James turned. There seated in a carriage was a Lady of high class. She was made up impeccably and James felt a weird draw to her. This must be Thomas Hamilton’s wife. He felt a weird stirring in the pit of his stomach, much like jealousy. She got to spend every night with him, while James, his romantic soulmate, could do no more than discuss politics with him. Life did seem unfair at times. 

"I remember what it was like the first time I met him. There’s a feeling one gets when in the presence of… truly great men. It’s something quite indescribable. I imagine you’re having it as we speak.”

“Indescribable is a good word.”

“You’re questioning my husband’s motives?”

“Not in the least ma’am. Though I may question the outcome he is likely to achieve. The game he is entering into is a brutal one. An unforgiving one.”

“Piracy.”

“Politics.”

“What’s your name Lieutenant?”

"McGraw, James McGraw."

For some reason her eyes lit up with delight at that. “Great men aren’t made great by politics Lieutenant McGraw. Nor made great by imprudence or propriety. They are, every last one of them, made great by one thing, and one thing only- the relentless pursuit of a better world. Great men don’t give up that pursuit. They don’t know how. And that is what makes them invincible.”

James mulled those words over in his mind. He had to admit that he did have his doubts about Thomas’ plans, but his wife seemed to have so much faith in him. Despite his slight resentment, he was glad that his soulmate was married to a woman who respected Thomas so.

She spoke up again, with a smirk in her voice. "Did you know that my maiden name is Barlow?"

James froze. What were the odds?

"Funny how the world works."

"Yes, funny." Replied James hoarsely. Now there was no way he could ever admit that his romantic soulmate was Thomas. Not when one of his platonic soulmates was married to him.

"Ah, I see you’ve met my wife." Thomas said coming up behind them. "I'm blessed to have the luck to be partnered with one of my soulmates."

James felt his heart start beating erratically. So he did know who his soulmates were. So why hadn't he said anything? Thomas did not seem like one to beat around the bush.

Thomas proceeded to roll up his right sleeve. The name Miranda Barlow written daintily on his wrist.

Oh.

“It’s tragic that the British are terrified of the prospect of what love can do. I think that love should be rejoiced. Luckily platonic love is not viewed in the same light as romantic love. Though, I do believe that platonic love can be just as powerful, do you not?”

James swallowed uncomfortably.

Miranda let out a bright laugh. "Yes, I must agree. And look at the three of us all together like this, it's perfect."

She rolled back her right wrist and there upon it were the names Thomas Hamilton and James McGraw.

James turned to Thomas. "You don't mind?"

"Mind? Why would I mind? We were meant to be with those on our wrists. They are meant to complete us.”

James smiled sadly, yes, but that wasn’t the case. He dared not voice his opinions though. Instead he rolled back his right sleeve. “Well, I must say, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miranda Hamilton.”

Miranda smiled brightly. “The pleasure is all mine. I can’t wait to get to know you.”

Thomas looked curiously at his wrist. “Charles Vane. Have you met him?”

He was referencing the other name on his right wrist, underneath Miranda Barlow. James looked down at the name laid bare on his skin. “No, I’m assuming you haven’t heard of him either?”

“Afraid not.” Thomas said, Miranda also shook her head. “Ah well, you’ll meet him soon enough I’m sure.”

James just nodded his head. Though he was fine with meeting this Charles person, he was more worried of what would happen if the other name came around.

“Well, to platonic love!” Thomas said. He then pulled back his left wrist letting the burn mark sign brightly in the sun. “Still though, it’s a shame that I’ll never know who the name on my left wrist was. If I had had a choice on the matter, I would have left it there. It would have been nice to know who the person is.”

Thomas looked up and stared straight at James as if he knew. He couldn’t though. It was not possible. “When did it get burned off, if I may ask?” James asked awkwardly.

“When I was born I’m afraid. Long before I could even understand what it meant or how to read it even.”

“Well, fate has a funny way of working out sometimes.” Miranda chimed in. “I have a feeling that you’ll find that person one day.”

James turned to Miranda in surprise. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course not.” She pulled down the sleeve on her left wrist. It was bare. “I may not have a romantic soulmate, but I love my husband dearly. I would love it if he found his other partner.” Her stare pierced through James. It felt like she could see into his soul. He had to get out of there.

“Right. Well. That’s all good. I must be going now. I have… an appointment with my Admiral.”

Thomas frowned. “Are you sure? I thought we could go over…”

“Oh I’m sure. Tomorrow we can… do stuff.” Do stuff? What on earth was he saying? “Good day.” He gave a hurried bow, leaving without another word. He needed a drink.

+

He sat in the bar going over his conversation with the Hamiltons. They couldn’t know right? But then what was with those knowing, lingering stares, and all this talk about soulmates? He rubbed against his left wrist, not daring to pull the sleeve back though. Not in such a crowded area.

With them knowing that Miranda was one of his platonic soulmates made things even more dubious. Would it be alright if he told her? It was something that he wanted to get off his chest, but he didn’t know her yet. No. It was too risky. He would keep this to himself.

He slung back the rest of his drink and left the bar. Life was getting far too complicated for his liking.

+

“Leave the pirates out of it.”

They were sitting inside Thomas’ office discussing the Nassau situation. James looked up at Thomas skeptically. Soulmate or not, there was no way he could be influenced that what Thomas was proposing would work.

It would take massive amounts of resources and finances to run the mission, and it would not solve the pirating problem that Thomas wanted to leave out for the time being. It was just not possible.

Though it hurt him to say it, he had to be frank. From the looks of things James was not the person that Thomas needed by his side if he wanted to go through with this plan.

“If you wish to request a liaison more sympathetic to your views, I’m sure Admiral Hennessey would be happy to oblige.”

James himself would get in trouble for not being able to do his job, but that was a sacrifice he was willing to make in order for Thomas to see out his dream. One he, sadly, could not support.

Thomas had an almost amused expression on his face. “The new world is a gift Lieutenant. A sacred opportunity to right our wrongs and begin anew… and I do not want my family's plotting it be the reason for its fall.”

James frowned. He was not sure where Thomas was going with this. Thomas got up and went closer to him. James felt his heart start to race again as it so often did when Thomas came closer than necessary.

“I’m not looking for someone to hold my hand. I need someone who can help me ensure that Nassau survives. The stakes are too great for anything else.”

Though what Thomas was saying made sense, James still had his doubts. It was imperative that Thomas see what he could offer and what he could not. “And you suspect I’m that person? Despite the fact that it’s clear we both view the world very differently.”

“Because of it.” Thomas whispered. Voice filled with emotion. “Strange pairs Lieutenant. They can achieve the most… unexpected things.”

Now how could James say no to that?

+

His Admiral came up beside him and started talking to him about his job. He laid down his warnings, which James knew all too well. It wouldn’t do to get too attached. He would be leaving soon. His partnership with the Hamiltons would have to come to an end.

He expressed his concern about James being swayed by the radical views of Lord Hamilton. It would not do to have a Lieutenant who thought too much about the orders he was given.

James quickly assured him that his judgement was still entirely intact. He would do his duty, nothing more. Even as he said the words, he knew they were nothing but lies. His judgement was long gone, if it ever was there in the first place.

Hennessey left. James stayed by the bar drinking his ale. He was still trying to figure out the best way to get through this whole ordeal. He didn’t have any answers.

Laughter rang out throughout the bar. James looked up to notice some Navy men looking over at him. Against his better judgment he went up to them. One of them came around to talk to him.

It was obvious that they resented him, a carpenter’s son, being given such a sought after opportunity. In their eyes he shouldn’t have even made Lieutenant if they had their way. He tempered his anger, it was nothing new. At the end of the day, he was the one rising in the ranks, leaving them behind. He was the winner here. Then, the uncouth bastard started to talk shit about Miranda and Thomas.

James did not know what came over him. It was like a rage surged throughout his entire body and he could only see red. Without even thinking about what he was doing, he punched the other man twice quickly. He dropped like a stone. Another one came up to him and got in a few punches before James took control of the situation and pushed him against a post. Punching him repeatedly. His blood was singing in his ears and he felt more alive than ever before.

“Enough!”

The whole bar went silent. James wasn’t really listening. As his breaths came back to normal he slowly realized what he had just done. He had never lost his temper like that. Ever. What on earth had come over him?

He hardly recognized the man that had taken over for those couple of minutes. It was like he had been an entirely different person. It scared and unsettled him. He did not want to repeat such a thing.

After a quick talk with Hennessey he stepped out into the fresh air of London’s streets, well as fresh as the air could get in London. The cold breeze helped bring his thoughts into focus, but he didn’t like the answers they came up with. Hennessey was right, there was this darkness inside of him. He had ignored it most of his life, but it had always been there. Now that he had released a tiny bit of it he could feel it thrumming just underneath his veins wanting out again. The thought terrified him.

No. He would not let himself lose control like that again. He would be a proper navy officer and do his duty. That was it.

+

After that night James needed a good distraction. Thankfully, that distraction came in the shape of Thomas Hamilton.

Sadly, the distraction was not what he really wanted, but talking was good too.

They had been talking for hours in Thomas’ study about the Nassau problem. They didn’t get anywhere, but it was good to keep his mind occupied. Also, though James would never admit it, he was sort of staling any real progress they could make at that point. Making sure to find a good counterpoint to every point Thomas brought up.

He liked the company. What could he say?

There was a knock on the door, and Miranda entered, dressed impeccably as always. She seemed to have an amused twinkle in her eye and kept giving James sly glances. Though Thomas was his main interest, he couldn’t help but be a little interested in the attention. She was a stunning woman after all.

“A gift. One of my favourites.” Miranda said, placing a book in front of him. At a glance, James noted the language- Spanish. He unfortunately did not know how to read or speak it.

Thomas also made note of that, though he seemed amused by the book choice. James would have to look into it.

“Perhaps he should learn. In his profession you never know when it might be useful.”

James raised an eyebrow. Too true. “Perhaps you could teach me?”

Miranda gave a delighted smile. “It would be my pleasure.”

+

There was a knock on the door. That was strange. No one ever came and visited him. Getting up he opened the door slowly. To his surprise Miranda stood outside smiling like she always was. Platonic soulmate or not, this was not proper conduct.

“I assumed we would be having the Spanish lessons at the Hamilton estate.” James said awkwardly. It was the only thing he could think of that made sense.

Miranda smirked. “I’m not here for that.”

They stood there staring at each other for a couple of moments, finally Miranda sighed and made a face. “Lieutenant, it’s rather cold out here.”

Though James knew it was all just pretense, he still had to let her in.

James bumbled around awkwardly, not sure what to do. Miranda just seemed amused, which was not helping things at all. Hurriedly he put on a shirt which sort of hanged off of him. He didn’t have time to get his clothes tailored so most of his undershirts were too big for him.

The reason for her visit soon came clear. She wanted him to accompany her to this art show. Unease filled his stomach. It would not do to go with her alone. Especially if word got out that they were platonic soulmates. Though they were platonic, it was far too easy for people to get the sides mixed up, or not even recognize the difference. It was too dangerous.

“Are you happy, Lieutenant?”

“Happy? In what regard?”

“In my experience there is a reverse relationship between the degree of one’s happiness and the concern one suffers with what the neighbours think.”

James raised an eyebrow. From what he knew about upper class society, it was that few were actually very happy at all. It must have to do with putting on all those airs. Though it seemed that Miranda, and he supposed Thomas as well, were fine with the rumors. By that regard, they were happy, something, which if James was honest with himself, James did not understand. He had not had a very happy life.

Despite her talks about happiness and not caring what other people think he could not be seen out with her alone in public. Too many rumors would circulate and that was something James desperately wanted to avoid.

Still though, he couldn’t disagree with a Lady outright so he went down to the carriage and informed the driver to take them back to the Hamilton estate. It was for the best after all.

As the carriage started moving, Miranda started up the conversation. “I couldn’t help but notice that you cover up your left wrist with coal residue or something of the sort.”

James shifted uncomfortably. Of course she would have noticed such a thing. “I figured if I were to be working with upper class members it would be wise to cover the names up. They tend to not like seeing reminders of such a thing.”

“But you now know that both myself and Thomas do not think such a thing should be covered. Why keep up with the charade?”

James shook his head. “Just a preference is all.”

Miranda regarded him critically, then looked out the window. “Where are we going? I’m quite certain this isn’t the way to the Grey’s residence.”

“I quietly instructed the driver to take you home.”

Miranda seemed so disappointed in him, but really though, from his point of view, there hadn’t been a choice. He made this point clear to her, but as always, she saw right through it.

“I think you are someone who is very good at managing how you’re is perceived, and perhaps, getting what you want without anyone ever knowing how you did it.”

James smirked. Yes, she did see right through him. Probably being his platonic soulmate helped with that, but she was an extraordinarily perceptive woman nonetheless.

He was interested in taking things where she was suggesting. He could never have Thomas, and well, she seemed to not care for such airs. Still though, there was one thing he needed to clear up.

“We are platonic soulmates though.”

Miranda smirked. “From my experience there is a thin line between platonic and romantic. Sometimes that line is blurred and should be crossed. What do you say?”

James tilted his head. Why not? He leaned forward and met Miranda’s lips with his own.

+

Though sleeping with Miranda was fun and all, he couldn’t help but still feel drawn to Thomas. He hoped that being with one of his soulmates would relieve that desire, but it was no use. He still couldn’t help feel the want that coursed through his body every time he laid his eyes on Thomas. He had to remain strong, though. It would be one thing to be caught sleeping with a married woman. It would be another thing altogether to be caught sleeping with a married man.

Finally, he told Miranda he couldn’t do this anymore. He made some excuse about how he didn’t feel comfortable sleeping with her behind Thomas’ back. They both knew it was a lie.

He actually expected more of a fight from her. Instead she just smiled and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.

“I understand.”

He had a strange feeling she understood far better than James did himself.

+

He received word from the Hamilton estate to come at once. Immediately his first worry was that Thomas had found out about his affair with Miranda. When he got there, however, the conversation was much more concerning.

Alfred Hamilton was coming for dinner and wanted an update on the Nassau plan.

“And you’re concerned about how he’ll receive it?” James could see how he would be wary, but so far, the plan wasn’t bad. It just had problems to it. Problems that would no doubt have solutions if given the time to think them through.

“I’m concerned about how he’ll receive one particular part of it. A part you and I have yet to discuss.”

James was taken aback to say the least. Yet to discuss? After going over countless hours of debate and wrangling with each other? At what point did Thomas leave something out? “I didn’t think we had one of those.”

Thomas scoffed regretfully. He looked down to gather his thoughts. James couldn’t help but feel a bit betrayed by this. Was he not trustworthy enough for the full plan?

“These past few months I have come to trust you.” Thomas said.

Yet, he couldn’t have trusted him with this seemingly important part?

“Very much. Which is why I feel like I can ask for your help.” The look in his eyes spoke of sincerity. James couldn’t help but feel conflicted. “When my father arrives I intend to propose something to him which could be very dangerous politically.”

“What is it you want me to help you with?” There was no point beating around the bush. If it was so important, he should have already told him.

Thomas took a breath, as if gathering his nerves. “I want you to talk me out of it.”

James frowned. If it was such an important piece, why would Thomas want him to talk him out of it? He could sort of see now why he hadn’t mentioned it before. Thomas himself wasn’t sure of the idea. Everything he had presented before had come from an air of certainty. There was obviously a lot of uncontrollable factors with this idea that he was grappling with.

Thomas shook his head. “Come. Let’s go to my study to discuss.”

They went over the plan again. It all seemed in order, James couldn’t see the problem at all. Then Thomas dropped the bombshell.

“When my father arrives I would like to propose to him that we don’t hang the pirates. That we pardon them.”

James must have misheard him. “I’m sorry what was that?”

“I want to pardon them.”

James, for the life of him, could not compute what Thomas had just said. Pardon them? But that was absurd! It was blasphemy, impossible. No politician in their right mind would ever agree to such a thing. “You want to pardon them?” He repeated, hoping it was some sort of mad dream he was in.

“Yes.”

God. He was serious.

“How many?”

“All of them.”

“Alright…” He would see how Thomas tried to explain this one.

As they debated, James knew he had to get Thomas to back out of this plan. If what he had heard about Lord Alfred Hamilton was true, then this plan would be thrown back in Thomas’ face. He would be ridiculed. He couldn’t let that happen to him. Not to Thomas.

He played the friend card. “But as your friend, I suggest that you forget you ever thought of it.” It was a harsh, low blow. He knew he was crushing Thomas’ dreams in one fell swipe but, as his soulmate, it was his duty to protect him. Even from himself.

+

James did not know what to expect with this dinner. From what he could tell neither Thomas nor Miranda liked Lord Alfred Hamilton very much, so he expected it to be a tough sell. Especially considering what they were trying to sell. He only hoped Thomas saw reason.

James came by at around six to give the Lord Hamilton time to get settled in his home.

"So you must be James McGraw, I've heard good things about you."

James nodded his head. Though the words were polite there was a hard edge to the tone. Like a warning to not disappoint him.

"Pleasure to meet you."

Things went downhill from there. Lord Hamilton was a spiteful, crooked creature and James could not for the life of him understand how the man he loved was related to him. Yes, he finally admitted to himself that he was in love with Thomas, even if nothing could come out of it.

Lord Hamilton remarked upon the missing piece of their plan- the pirates. Thomas gave a glance to James, and James in that moment knew he was going to bring up the pardons. This was not going to go well.

"What a piece of work you are.”

“You asked me to formulate a plan, that’s what I’ve done.”

“I asked you to formulate a plan that would secure the support of the navy in our efforts. Support without which there is little chance of reversing the catastrophic downward trend in revenue from the Bahama territories…"

He continued on, ripping into the plan. Things quickly grew heated between Thomas and his father.

Miranda tried to get a hold of the conversation, but then Lord Hamilton made a slight about her sleeping habits. That was when James had had enough. James now viewed both Miranda and Thomas as his family and he was duty bound to protect his family, even from their own family.

"I support it. I find his argument persuasive. I find his intent to be good and true, and I find yours wanting sure." He couldn’t help that last bit come out in anger. He hated this man, hated him with every fiber of his being. “I will be relaying my findings to Admiral Hennessey in short order, and now I think it’s time you left sir.”

James himself was a bit surprised by the words that came out of his mouth. Just hours before he had been imploring Thomas to not go through with this plan. Oh look how the tides had turned.

Lord Hamilton got up. He looked between the three of them. “Gentlemen.” There was no politeness in his voice with that statement. He left. The silence that followed seemed deafening to James.

"Did you just ask my father… to leave his own house?" Thomas finally said, breaking the silence. Disbelief and amusement ringing clear in his voice.

James blanched as he realized the full extent of what he had just done.

"Right now he will be dispatching messages to the sea lords, the southern secretary, his friends in the privy counsel. He will stop at nothing to ensure that this plan never reaches the light of day." There was a pause. James continued to look down at the table. He still wasn’t sure what he had just done, but he didn’t regret it. “And now you’re in the line of fire.”

“People can say what they like about you, but you’re a good man… more people should see that, and someone should be willing to defend it.”

A strange look crossed Thomas' face. He got up and approached James, looking intently at him. James felt his heart start to beat faster. He felt both apprehension and uncertainty. Thomas approached with sure but steady steps, going too slow, but too fast all at the same time.

As if in a dream Thomas put a hand up to his cheek and leaned down. For a moment their breaths mingled together. James was not quite sure who closed the last few inches, but the next thing he knew he was kissing Thomas.

A sense of right and excitement filled him. He forgot all about his worries and concerns. Forgot all about his arguments about why this shouldn't happen. This was where he belonged, right here in Thomas' arms with his lips upon his skin. The kiss was everything he could have wished for, better than he could have imagined. It was perfect.

They broke apart breaths coming out shallowly. They both started grinning like little school children.

"Finally!"

James whirled around. He had forgotten that Miranda was still in the room. Beside him Thomas chuckled. "You're one to talk Miranda. You've been hogging him this whole time."

Miranda smirked. "I don't believe we've slept together in a couple of weeks now, have we James?"

James felt a flush creep up his cheeks. "Ah umm no. I don't believe so."

Thomas let out a chuckle. “Don’t worry. It’s fine.” Then his eyes grew sombre. “We have to move quickly. Gather up members of the council. We need to discuss this plan with them before my father can do much.”

Miranda nodded, and quickly got up to get to work. James didn’t want to let go of Thomas just yet, but he was right, they had work to do. With a final shy glance at Thomas, he straightened his jacket and left the room as well.

+

Once the disappointing meeting with the council members was over, with only Peter Ash as an ally, the three of them collapsed into chairs.

“So what’s next?” James asked. He felt drained. This day had been one surprise to the next. First Thomas’ surprise about the pardons, then the fight at dinner which led to him defying Lord Hamilton. The kiss… then this whole mess. He should be celebrating finally getting to kiss his soulmate, but it didn’t seem like the time.

"Will you be alright if I spend the night with James?" Thomas said. James looked up in surprise. Thomas was looking at Miranda intently.

Miranda smiled. "You two have fun. I'll be fine on my own." There was a knowing twinkle in her eye.

James still felt quite lost. Were they actually…?

Lightly, Thomas tugged James to his room. James' heart was beating erratically.

Thomas closed the door behind him. He paused for a second before walking around to face him, analyzing him with scrutiny. "If you don't want this you can go."

James let out a laugh. Didn't want this? This was everything he had ever wanted. How could he not want this? He _needed_ this.

To dissuade him of anymore of such notions he strode over to Thomas and dragged him into a deep kiss.  
Thomas let out a low moan, clutching at his arms. "Thank god."

James smirked against his lips. "Thought you weren't a fan."

"Oh shut it."

James was only too happy to comply.

+

Later, James leaned against Thomas’ chest fully content for the first time in his life. It was like this invisible weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He was now free.

Being with Thomas was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. It had been both new and exciting, but also familiar in some way, in a good way. He would find it hard to give it up now that he had a taste. Screw the dangers that came with it.

Right now they were just basking in the afterglow, neither of them wanting to move much. Their steady breaths the only sound echoing throughout the room.

“May I see it.”

James frowned. “Pardon?”

“Your wrist. May I see it. I feel like I already know, but I would like to be certain.” Thomas looked at his own left wrist in distaste. “I hate how I can’t see your name upon mine. It would have looked beautiful there.”

James felt his own heart quicken. He couldn’t show it; it would ruin everything. He sat up, disentangling himself from Thomas and turned his back to him. All the reasons why he couldn't be with Thomas came back to him.

“James? What’s wrong?” The concern was evident, as well as the hint of pain. It broke James’ heart to hear him sound like that, but how could he show him? It would break this thing they had before it could even begin. For who could love someone who had two romantic soulmates? It was like a giant sign screaming at the one partner that they would never be enough for the other.

He turned to look at Thomas. The blue eyes were full of worry and questions. Questions that only had horrible answers in their stead.

“Please. If I am not your soulmate it is alright. I love you, but I will understand if you do not share that love. Though I would like to know why you slept with me then, if for no other reason than to appease my curiosity.”

James would have laughed if it weren’t so tragic of a situation. Oh god, lack of love had nothing to do with this, in fact the opposite. It seems he was filled with too much love. How ironic was that?

Looking into Thomas’ eyes he knew he could not keep this a secret any longer. Not from him. It might tear them apart, but he deserved to know. Deserved to be given that choice.

He held out his left wrist. It still had coal smears rubbed onto it. Gently Thomas took his wrist and brought it closer to him.

“May I?”

James nodded his head, he wanted to look away, but found that he could not.

Thomas carefully took a wet cloth and dabbed away at the coal. Letters began to appear beneath the smudged dust. The name Thomas Hamilton came into view. Thomas stopped wiping at his wrist and looked up, delight and excitement shining in his eyes.

“Why-”

It hurt, oh how it hurt that he would be the one to take away that joy. Before Thomas could finish his sentence James grabbed the cloth and wiped the rest of the coal residue away. Better to get the pain over with as soon as possible.

Thomas’ brows furrowed in confusion as he looked back at James’ wrist. They raised in surprise as he read the next words written on his skin. John Silver.

James felt his breath start to come out in short bursts. He had to attempt to save this in some way. He would not go down without a fight, however badly the odds were stacked against him.

“I don’t know him. I have never met him. I don’t love him. He means nothing to me. I only love you, I will only ever love you. You have to believe me…”

Thomas leaned down and kissed the other name on his wrist. James gasped in surprise. Thomas looked up with a smile. “While you may not love him, I love him already. I can’t wait for the day to come where I get to meet him and welcome him into our home with open arms.”

“But…”

Thomas leaned forward and put his forehead against his own. “He is a part of you, and I love everything about you, so I love him. It is that simple.”

James looked into Thomas’ blue eyes. He saw only love and sincerity in them. James was washed away. He had never in his life been accepted so wholly.

When he was little, the other children would laugh at him for having two names, saying he was a freak or monster. That was before he learned to cover them up. Then that cover was this unknown chain that kept him from truly accepting what he was, who he was.

To have his soulmate, the person who meant the most to him the world, say it was perfectly fine that he had two of them… it was indescribable.

No words could convey what that meant to him. Instead he surged forward and pressed his lips against Thomas’, hopping that his kiss would convey everything what words could not.

+

James was eating breakfast the next day when Thomas came in and kissed him on the cheek. James drew back startled, looking around to see if anyone had seen.

“What’s wrong?” Thomas asked.

“You can’t do that out in the open.” James hissed, still checking to make sure a maid hadn’t walked by at that moment.

Thomas frowned and stared down at him. When James looked up into those piercing blue eyes he found he could not hold the stare for long. It was like staring into an ocean that had no end. It was intoxicating, yet at this time, unsettling. “Why do you carry such shame?”

James swallowed uneasily. Such a loaded question for so early in the day. Against his will he found his eyes trailing to his left wrist again. Thomas, noticing his eye movement, pulled up a chair and sat beside him. Gently taking the wrist in his hands again.

He seemed disappointed to see them covered up again. “I thought I told you I was fine with you having two romantic soulmates.”

James closed his eyes. That wasn’t the problem. “It’s not you I have the problem with… or him either. It’s well… it’s not right.”

Thomas gently massaged James’ wrists, going over what James had just said. James hoped he understood what he had been trying to get across. He wasn’t sure he had it in him to spell it out.

“There is nothing wrong with liking men. How can it be wrong? We don’t choose our soulmates.”

“Yes, but British society doesn’t see it that way.”

“Who cares about British society. Who cares about propriety? Damn it all!”

James let out a small huff of laughter. Yes, it was so like Thomas to go against the common flow of things. “I still need my job.”

Thomas grimaced. “True… but how about this? In my house you act as you please. If you want to kiss me then go ahead. If you want to hug me then do so. If you want to give me a blow job in a dusty corner of this house than by all means, be my guest.”

James couldn’t help the snort that escaped his lips. Thomas smiled brightly. “Yes, Britain has its snobby, stuck up ways. Yes, out there, we’ll have to act like business partners and nothing more. Yes it sucks, but here? Here you can be who you are and have no shame in that. How does that sound to you?”

James smiled. “That sounds good.”

“Good.” Thomas leaned forward and kissed him lightly. “Because I like kissing you far too much to have to wait until we are in my bedroom to do so.”

+

The next couple of months passed in a blur. It was like they were living in a dream. Though their efforts to help Nassau grew increasingly frustrating, their relationship only further blossomed.

His favourite pass time was sitting on the bed listening to Thomas read aloud from various different books. His favourite by far being Meditations. He frequently requested it, much to Thomas’ amusement.

At times they were quite careless with their activities. On multiple occasions they were nearly caught by some of the maids. Luckily Miranda was in on it and smoothed out any wrinkles that might have arisen.

James finally told Miranda, at Thomas’ heeding, about his double soulmate issue. Her reaction was not what he had expected, but then again, he should have known better by now. She gave him a knowing look and softly ran her thumb over the name. “I look forward to meeting him one day. Him and Charles Vane.” She paused looking into the distance before looking back at him with a soft smile. “You are so full of love James. It would not have suited you to only have one soulmate.”

“But what about you? You don’t even have a romantic soulmate. How is that fair?”

Miranda laughed. “Don’t worry about me. I am perfectly content just having you two in my life. Besides, I think I may be a precursor to those in the new coming age where people no longer have soulmates written on their wrists.”

“What?”

“Lady Newton just had a child this past week. The baby had no name at all written on his wrists. Now this has happened before, but then the same happened with Lady Homer and Mrs. Keller, the baker’s wife. I think Britain no longer wants soulmates so people no longer get soulmates.”

“But that’s horrible.”

Miranda smiled sadly. “Well, when they burn babies’ wrists to hinder people from searching for their true mate it does send a message does it not? I think one-day people will have all but forgotten that such a thing as soulmates used to exist.”

James was both saddened and somewhat relieved to hear of it. While growing up, having soulmates had put an enormous pressure on his shoulders. It was not something any child should have to deal with. Still, now that he had met two of his soulmates he would not have traded it for the world. It was a weird world they lived in, that was for sure.

+

Of course the good times could not go on forever. He was called back to sea. Needing to head out to Nassau to assess the situation up close.

The night before he left he spent the night in Thomas’ room, as he had done so often before. This night, however, was filled with an almost desperate like feel to it. It was irrational, seeing as he would only be gone a couple of months, but still, it hurt to have to say goodbye.

Thomas gave him the book, Meditations, to take on his trip. James looked up in surprise. “I can’t take this.”

Thomas shook his head. “I want you to have it. You love it so much and hopefully it will bring you some joy out at seas.”

James smiled. “I love hearing you read it. I think there’s a difference.”

Thomas laughed. “Just take it.”

James shook his head, opening the cover. The words there made him pause.

_James,_

_My truest love. Know no shame._

_T.H._

James looked up, heart beating wildly in his chest. Though he knew Thomas loved him, it just felt so much more real to see such devotion written down.

“Why do you look so surprised?” Thomas asked teasingly.

James shook his head. “I love you.”

Thomas pulled him into a hug. “I know.”

+

The next day they could only shake each others hands and nod their heads. Oh how James longed to pull Thomas into one last kiss, but it wasn’t proper. How could such a thing as love not be considered proper? Sometimes he didn't understand British customs.

As the ship left port he stayed on deck, looking back at the harbour, keeping watch of Thomas until he could no longer see him anymore. Three months. He would see him again in three months.


	3. Losing Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning- mentions of self-harm

Reaching Nassau, James could only say that he was surprised with what he saw. He had expected the place to be an unruly mess, but while there were many problems, there was also so much potential. The biggest thing about this place was that people didn’t give a flying fuck about soulmates.

You have a Jack on your left wrist? Great! Mine’s a prostitute. Love’s fucked up, let’s celebrate it.

James could live with Thomas and Miranda here without any problems. In fact… why didn’t they? This place was corrupt, yes, but with a bit of tweaking and hard work, things could be changed around. They needed to boot the general out, but what if Thomas was the new general?

One of the biggest problems James and Thomas had encountered was the fact that Nassau, being so far removed from England, would be too easy of a position to go corrupt again. Whoever was placed as governor would soon see that there was really no one there to make sure they were enforcing the rules. If Thomas was in charge though, that wouldn’t be a problem.

Thomas was committed to making Nassau prosper again and he was also a good man. James was sure that this could be the answer to all of their problems. They wouldn’t have to hide anymore. Better yet, they wouldn’t have to pretend.

He talked to business merchants along the docks and in the bars, listening to people’s tales and concerns and taking note of what they thought the island’s main problems were. It was all mostly what James and Thomas had already discussed with a few things here and there that being directly on the island shed light upon. All in all, if they could get the pardons through, it would work. They could make Nassau prosperous again, that James was certain of.

Then things went to shit.

-

James was sitting in his ship office when the cries and screams echoed out into the night. Frowning, James got up and hurriedly went up on deck.

“Jackson! What’s going on?”

One of the scouts on deck came rushing over with a panicked look on his face. “There seems to be something amiss at the governor’s house.”

Sure enough, from their position on deck, James could see the tendrils of fire reaching up into the night air. “Get me a spyglass!”

“Right away sir.”

Cursing, James strained his eyes in an attempt to see better. Whatever was happening over there did not bode well with his mission. Being handed the tool he quickly brought it up to his face. It did not shed much more light on the situation, but then he turned to look out into the waters to see if it revealed any clues.

There at the far left side of the bay lay a ship that had not been there a mere four hours earlier. Though it was hard to make out features in the low din, he thought he could just make out a black sail waving in the wind. A pirate ship.

“Why the fuck did no one inform me of that ship?” James yelled out. The crewmen on deck looked at each other in discomfort. It was obvious they had not been doing their job.

Cursing he looked back to the ship. His blood ran cold as he saw behind it what looked to be four other ships coming in the distance. The scary thing was that they were sailing at night. Did they not know how dangerous that was? Then again, they were pirates; who knew what crazy thoughts ran through their minds?

“Sir, Lincoln is approaching.” Jackson said.

Lincoln was their scout on the island for the night. He was supposed to be taking notes on the bar night life and was one of the few men James could be certain wouldn’t help himself to a bit of spirits while on duty, like so many others would be so inclined. It must be bad if he was coming back already.

“Bring him up, then send him to my office.” James said before storming away. Barging into his office he quickly took out his maps, hoping to find some clue as to why no one had noticed the pirates approach. Their failure to prevent the pirates’ entry put the blame of this attack on him.

There was a knock on the door.

“Enter.”

Lincoln stepped into the room. He was scrunching up his hat in his hands, but otherwise showed no outwards sign of distress.

“What happened.” James demanded.

“A pirate felt that the governor did not come through on a bribe and so made an example out of him. Went in and destroyed the home…” He trailed off.

James looked up. “And?”

Lincoln closed his eyes and shuddered. “and they… they took the wife and son out… killed them both. As far as I know, the governor is still alive. Want him to face the consequences of his actions.”

James swore. Heathens, the lot of them. How was he was supposed to bring this back to London and tell the navy, tell Thomas, that these were the men they are supposed to give pardons to?

He could see his dream, Thomas’ dream, slipping away through his fingers.

He looked up. Lincoln was still standing there reminding James that he still had a job to do. There was no time to mourn what hadn’t been his in the first place.

“Thank you. Go and get the rest of the crew up if they aren’t already. Prepare the ship. We are to be gone at sunrise.”

“But sir…”

James stood up. “There are more pirate ships coming in, and they will be here on the morrow. Add to that, a riled up town where different people are going to be blaming each other. Don’t doubt for a second that some of that blame is going to be placed on England and the navy for doing nothing to stop this. Especially since one of England’s own navy boats is in their docks. We have to get out of here while we still can. Nassau is outside the law now.”

Lincoln’s eyes were wide. He was, after all, a simple recruit who couldn’t understand the full extent of the situation.

“Go.”

He nodded his head and hurriedly left the office. Once he was alone, James sat down and put his head in his hands. How had this happened? How could all of this have gone so wrong?

 

+

 

Everything was a blur. It had all happened too quickly. One moment he was back in Thomas’ parlour, seeing his lover’s face again after far too long. The next, he was back in that same parlour, but his life in ruins with Thomas no longer there to pick up the pieces.

The conversation between Admiral Hennessey and Alfred Hamilton flashed through his mind over and over.

_“Do you think I would not have found out what was going on in my own home?”_

_“Such a thing is too vile… too depraved…”_

He wanted to fight. He wanted to save Thomas, to put things to right again, but Miranda had whispered her desperate words in his ears. Convinced him different.

She was right, they had to leave while they had the chance. Otherwise they would most likely hang him and in the process destroy her. He couldn’t let that happen to her. It was probably the only reason he let himself be taken away. He let himself leave Thomas to save her.

_“He is my soulmate though.”_

_“He doesn’t have a soulmate.” Alfred sneered._

_Hennessey grabbed his arm and pulled back the sleeve. He jumped back when he saw the marks on his wrist. “That right there proves it. You are a monster.”_

Somehow they had ended up on a boat. He did not know which one, yet he knew where it was going. It was the only place he could conceivably see going where he could survive. Where he could handle living, while carrying this pain within him.

“What do you plan on doing in Nassau?”

James stared straight ahead, watching the waves roll off against each other into the distance. For so long he had found comfort in those waves, found comfort in their gentle rocking back and forth. Now they felt like a burden. A heavy burden that he must carry until his lover’s goal was complete.

_“Three months… feels twice as long as that.”_

They had only had time to do no more than give each other a quick hug before James had to leave again. Had to leave to what was inevitably his ruin. To think that after all their planning, all their discussions, that it would end like this.

“James?”

“We’re going to make Nassau prosperous again.”

No matter what, no matter how, he will find a way. In Thomas’s name he will prevail. He had to.

 

+

 

He entered the bar and looked around. Who would be a good target? He needed someone a bit older and wiser, but still able at the same time. Someone who could see reason, but also believe in impossibilities.

His eyes alit on a bald man sitting by the bar, soothing back a glass of what looked to be rum. He had a strong build to him and looked to be a seafaring man, but his moustache was greying in certain areas. From the look of things this could be his man.

He strode up to the bar and signalled for a glass. As he waited, he turned his body and assessed the other man up close. Besides a few wrinkles around the eyes, he was all that he had observed from a distance.

“Now whereabouts around here can a man find a crew and a ship?”

The man looked over at him dubiously. He was obviously not impressed with what he saw. “If you want to play around you’ve come to the wrong place.”

James smirked. “Why don’t I buy you a drink and then tell you a story. Afterwards you can decide for yourself if I’m worth the trouble.”

The man contemplated the offer then shrugged his shoulders. “Why not. Could always do with another drink. Names Gates by the way. Hal Gates.”

He held out his hand. James took it with a smile. “James… Flint. James Flint.” In for a penny, in for a pound. He was starting a new life, he needed a new name to go along with it.

“Nice to meet you Flint. Now how about that drink?”

 

+

 

He was walking along the docks with Gates when he noticed a crowd gathering along the beach. “What’s going on?”

Gates looked over and rolled his eyes with a sigh. He pulled at Flint’s arm and gestured him to walk away. “Nothing to worry about. Just men being men.”

The sound of a pained shout filled the air followed by cheers. His curiosity and concern arose, so he ignored Gate’s words and walked over, weaving himself through the crowd. Once he got closer he could make out a big brute of a man with long brown hair beating up another poor lad. It was hardly a fair fight with the other man being of an elderly age and slim figure.

“What did he do?” Flint asked.

One of the bystanders looked over at him and grinned an ugly smile. Multiple teeth were missing and what remained were stained yellow and black with mistreatment. “Ol’ Barry here spilled his drink all o’er Arles clo’es.”

It was hard to understand the man, but Flint got the just of it. “That’s it?” Such an act hardly warranted such a beating as was happening now. The other man looked at him like he was crazy, but Flint paid him no mind. This had to be stopped. He stepped into the circle that had formed around the fight and grabbed onto the bigger man’s arm, yanking him around.

Gasps and whispers burst out around them, but Flint didn’t care. He brought his fist back and punched the other man square in the jaw, sending him stumbling backwards. The other man stared in shock at Flint for a couple of seconds before his eyes went dark and he bared his teeth. With a roar he ran at Flint and tackled him to the ground.

Together they rolled on the coarse sand, kicking, biting and scratching wherever they could reach. It was hardly dignified by any means and the crowd loved it. Flint was at a disadvantage due to lack of familiarity with these sorts of scraps, whereas the other man probably got into one of these once a week. The other man was also a bit bigger than him. Flint, however, had one thing that not even this awful man could have and that was pure unadulterated rage. It was that rage that had been simmering just underneath his skin ever since that night all those months ago at that bar. That rage that threatened to break out when they had taken Thomas away from him, the only thing holding him back being Miranda. It was that rage that now came to the surface with a vengeance.

Coursing through his body, Flint somehow managed to get the upper hand and began pounding on the other man. Many of his blows missed their mark, but those that did hit were damaging. Flint wasn’t even aware of what he was doing, all that mattered was feeding that rage, making it grow stronger. It felt so good and freeing; it was what he needed.

Arms came around him and hauled him off the other man. At first he tried to fight it, but then he recognized the voice in his ear- Gates.

“Flint! FLINT! Calm down!”

Flint attempted to regain control of his breathing. After a couple of moments things became clearer again and he looked around. Many of the men were looking at him with fear, some seemed downright terrified. He turned and looked at Gates. He had a worried expression on his face and kept looking between Flint, the man on the ground, then to the crowd. Specifically, at the place where two figures seemed to be pushing people aside to get to the clearing.

A man and a woman dressed as a man broke through. The woman had fiery red hair and was clutching at her swords, glaring fiercely at him. The man was looking between Flint and the guy on the ground with a troubled expression on his face.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here.” Gates murmured, tugging at Flint and forcing him to follow. The crowd quickly moved to get out of their way and soon they were free of the crowds. Once clear Gates pulled Flint into an empty street and pushed him against a wall.

“What in god’s name were you thinking?” Gates hissed.

Flint frowned. “That brute of a man was beating up that other fellow for no goddamn reason.”

Gates lifted his hands in exasperation. “Who cares? He isn’t our business.”

“Isn’t our business? What sort of place do we live in where people can just beat on those lesser than them because they displeased them in some way?”

“Nassau. That is Nassau for you.” Flint must have made a face at that since Gates rolled his eyes and jabbed a finger in his chest. “Listen, you came to me in that pub and somehow convinced me, though I still don’t know how, that you were going to be the most prosperous pirate that Nassau has ever seen. Being a pirate on Nassau means that you have to be terrifying and ruthless. You don’t take shit from anyone. If you can’t do that then you can’t be a bloody pirate captain.”

Flint gritted his teeth and looked away. “Being a heathen is not the same as being a pirate. Pirates should have codes.”

“Well take that up with Charles Vane. He’s the most well-known feared pirate around these parts and you’ve put a big target on yourself getting on his bad side.”

The blood ran out of Flint’s face. “What did you say his name was?”

“Charles Vane? You probably heard of him, his flag is feared by most merchants these days.”

Flint stopped listening. Charles. Vane. Out of all the people in this entire bloody world, this was the man he was supposed to be connected with? It was a goddamn joke, that was what it was. He had to get out of there.

He pushed past Gates and strode down the alley.

“Where are you going?” Gates called after him.

Flint didn’t respond.

 

+

 

James slammed the door as he entered the home, seething. Gods above he must be cursed! Grabbing a chair, he threw it across the room. It gave a satisfying crunch as it hit the wall but, too his disappointment, remained intact.

“James! What on earth?” Miranda said, coming into the room.

He could tell that she was scared, but he was too enraged to care at that point. This was the life that he was presented with. It was all a damn joke.

“Charles fucking Vane.” James said, breathing heavily.

Miranda carefully took a step closer to him, but remained a safe distance away. “You met him?”

James nodded his head. He wanted to scream, but knew that probably wouldn’t be a good idea with the neighbours around. “He is a GOD DAMN FUCKING PIRATE!”

He grabbed a vase and threw it against the wall, shattering it into a million pieces.

“James! Control yourself!”

James shook his head, walking back and forth. Oh how he wanted to hurt somebody, and he wanted that somebody to be Charles Vane.

Miranda, trying to be the voice of reason, spoke up again. “Frankly, I don’t see what the problem is. You are technically a pirate now too. Why can’t you get along with this one? You should be able to emphasize with him.”

James shook his head. Oh that was funny. Emphasize with that bastard. With that piece of shit. As if. “There are pirates, then there are the likes of him. He kills for sport. For fun. Enjoys it. Ruins people’s lives for no reason. That is the man I’M SOULMATES WITH?”

Miranda took the final steps closer and placed her hands on his shoulders. “There is a reason that his name is on your wrist, you just have to find it. Right now, he may be this… vile man, but if you just talk to him-”

“Oh, I’ve talked to him alright. Had a _lovely_ chat with him this afternoon. Know everything I need to know about him, and I will have _nothing_ to do with him. Nothing.”

Miranda pursed her lips. “James, I really think-”

James pushed her away. “No. No. I will have nothing to do with him. Nothing at all. I have had enough with this soulmate business. All it has brought me is ruin and pain. Even before I met you and Thomas it was a curse. Now?” James shook his head. “Now I’m done. I have had enough. Charles Vain can go fuck himself for all I care. He is dead to me.”

“Please think this through.”

James had had enough at this point. Charles Vane had shown himself to him and it was ugly. James would have no part in that. From this day forth they would be enemies, mark his words.

Not wanting to hear Miranda’s pleas any longer, he stormed out of the house. As he breathed in the cool night air he came to a realization. He was no longer going to be James McGraw. That man was dead, along with all of his soulmates. That man no longer existed. From this day forth, he would be known as James Flint, and James Flint was not soulmates with anyone.

 

+

 

“What did I tell you Gates? Told you she was catchable.” Flint called out to his quartermaster.

Gates only shook his head in disbelief. He had voiced many of his concerns about why this endeavour had not been a good idea, but Flint had shaken them off. If he was going to be the tyrant of the seas, he had to show others why. This ship was just the beginning of that.

Flint walked around deck, almost smiling at the sight of his men whooping and hollering over the treasure they found. He knew there would be no more complaints coming from them. They would follow him loyally from now on.

He went down below deck to see if they had missed anything, though he doubted it. As he walked among the crates he stumbled on a loose board. Quickly he reached out and grabbed the beam above him for balance. He glanced up and froze.

By grabbing onto the beam, his jacket had fallen down his arm a bit, leaving his wrist horribly bare. Whereas just yesterday there had been two black names written there, now there was one black and one grey with a cross through it.

_~~Thomas Hamilton~~ _

His vision tilted. He stumbled back and somehow ended up on the floor. Everything was spinning too fast, and he found it hard to breath. That was it, that was the end.

A small part of him had always hoped that he could find a way back to Thomas. With him still being alive, there had always been hope, there was always a way. Now though, now…

It was like he was being stretched apart. He could feel a part of his soul dying and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“Captain? Are you alright?”

Flint snapped back into focus. He couldn’t show his weakness here, not in front of the crew. “Yes. Fine.”

He quickly got up and brushed past the other man. He didn’t even recognize who it was. Entering his cabin, he busied himself with the maps. Somehow he managed to hold himself together for the remainder of the journey back to Nassau. Once there though, in the dark of night, he made his way to a deserted cove.

There upon the sand he fell to his knees and raged. Screamed at the gods, at England, at everyone. After awhile the screams turned into sobs. Horrible broken sobs that shuddered through his whole body. It was at this point that he collapsed down in a ball and lay there, curled up and unmoving.

Emptiness started to creep in. Cold emptiness. It filled every vein in his body and left only rage in its place. It was then that Captain James Flint knew. Knew from the depths of his soul- James McGraw was dead and he would never surface again.

 

+

 

There was pain… but was it really pain? If felt more like a release. Like an escape. He reveled in it, accepted it. Loved it.

“James?”

The voice was far off, like a calling in a dream. Easy to ignore, easy to block out.

“James! JAMES!”

There were hands in his vision. Hands grabbing at him, grabbing at his salvation.

“No!” He tried to say. He needed this. Needed to be free. He didn’t want it.

It was gone. Wrenched from his grasp. How could she? He thought she of all people would have understood. Would have let him do this.

“How could you James? Why? Why would you do this?”

There seemed to be pain and hurt in her voice. He felt a little bad for that, but then she shouldn’t have intervened. She should have let the pain consume him.

Her words were like an anchor for him though, slowly he came back to the surface. With this awareness he realized that the pain was still there. Throbbing gently, just under his skin, like a little reminder.

Miranda left then came back, carrying a bucket. Why was she carrying a bucket? “Oh James.” She was looking at him with pity. He didn’t want her pity. He didn’t want anything. He just wanted to forget.

Gently she took his wrist. Cradling it in his hands, she softly stroked the skin there before dumping cold water on it.

With a hiss he yanked his hand back. His wrist was smarting, but for all the wrong reasons. He didn’t want to be healed. He didn’t want to be fixed.

“James.” Miranda said, her voice going low. “The damage is already done. Let me at least take care of it.”

He frowned. No, the pain was fading, how could it be done already? It should hurt more than that. Looking down, he saw though that she was right. It was done.

He felt a sense of relief and satisfaction. This was the way it was supposed to be. He felt a small smile grow on his lips as he stared at his left wrist. On it was the name Thomas Hamilton, grey and crossed out, like it would remain forever. A constant reminder of his failures and pain. Underneath that though, was a fresh new angry burn mark. Bright and new, but made to last. Effectively erasing any trace that he had two soulmates.

He did not want another soulmate. He did not _need_ another soulmate.

He did not need John Silver.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Flint sort of overreacted over Vane, but he is upset, angry, and lost, and they needed something to get each other on opposite sides for now :( Don't worry, it won't last forever!


	4. Hating Love

_Captain's Cabin, after the Singleton fight:_

He had known this was the right ship, had known that the key to success was on this boat, but like everything else, nothing ever went his way. A discontent crew, a disloyal fucker who planned on taking his ship, and the one page that was needed, out of all the pages in the captain’s log, was missing. What had he done to deserve this bad luck?

Going into the fight against Singleton, he had a feeling that he wasn’t the one who had stolen the page. He had hoped that his gut feeling had been wrong and that the entirety of his problems would be solved, but that was not to be. Still, Singleton needed to be disposed of, so it wasn’t all for naught. Now the problem lay in needing to find out who had actually stolen the page.

“Someone on that deck stole the page.” Flint said, looking at the feather. He didn’t really know any of his men so he needed to rely on Gates and Billy to figure out who could be the culprit. Gates started to go on about how everyone was searched when he trailed off. Flint looked up in interest.

“What?”

“The cook. I found him hiding in the armoury, standing over a dead body. Said it was suicide.”

Flint stood up, blood pumping in his veins. “Did you search him?” He asked, already knowing the answer. From their faces, he knew he was correct. Whoever this cook was, he was their thief. Billy immediately left the cabin to go after him. Gates made to follow, but Flint held him back.

“What is this cook’s name?” Flint asked before he left. It was better to know all he could before he confronted the thief.

Gates frowned. “John… John Silver I think it was.”

Flint froze. No. That was not possible… It couldn’t be.

Gates left the cabin to follow after Billy, but Flint stayed frozen at his desk not knowing how to compute this information. How was it possible for that name to come back to haunt him? He had thought for sure that he had done everything in that power to erase his past, erase who he was.

The seconds ticked by as Flint stayed frozen in his cabin. Flint knew he had to get out there, but could he confront his soulmate?… No. He was James Flint now, not James McGraw. He did not have a soulmate of the name John Silver. He even had the wrist to prove it.

Setting his features in order he got up and left the cabin, determined to face this lying thief and show him that Flint was not someone to mess with. He would regret the day he crossed James Flint.

He strode across the deck seemingly unperturbed, eyes carefully looking around the ship for who this John Silver may be. He noticed Gates and Billy looking at someone, while trying, but failing, to act nonchalant. Flint followed their line of sight and noticed this young man trying to put as much distance between himself and them. He had dark curly hair, and a slim build, but Flint could tell that there was muscle underneath. There was nothing particularly special about him, but then the boy looked up and their eyes made contact. It was like the world slowed down for a second.

Even from where he was standing he could tell that the boy had deep blue eyes. They sparkled prettily against the backdrop of the sea and were quite breathtaking. Flint could envision himself staring into their depths for days and not grow tired with what he saw there.

Then Silver looked away and the spell was broken. Flint could practically hear the thoughts churning in the thief’s head as he rushed over to the side of the deck and stood on the railing. He looked between him, Gates, and the water weighing his options. It was fascinating watching his thought process, but it was bringing unwanted attention to the man, which was probably the reason for what Silver did next.

Grimacing, Silver jumped overboard, hitting the water with a belly flop. As his scream echoed out against the water, the rest of the crew roared with laughter. The action made Flint pause. This was his soulmate? A goddamn idiot? The gods must truly hate him.

John Silver swam up to the first row boat that had already left for shore. Keeping an eye on the thief, Flint hurried down to Dufrense. “I need another boat ready. Now.”

Quickly another boat was made ready and himself, Billy, and Gates all headed out. Flint never took his eyes off the retreating boat, but it reached the shore far before them, and with the crowds, it was impossible to see which direction the thief was going. Once they reached shore, he was no where in sight.

“Hey!” Gates called out. “Anybody know where the cook went?”

Three men pointed in different directions. James looked between the three and nearly laughed. Of fucking course. He had been sucked in, like so many others most likely. The belly flop had just been for show.

He sent Gates and Billy off, but Flint needed a drink. In fact, he needed twenty drinks. Gods above, why did his past have to come back to haunt him? Especially now, when he was so close. To think, after all these years he would be thwarted by someone Flint had refused to believe existed. It was maddening.

He got himself a bottle and sat down on a crate in a deserted alley. Sitting there he pulled down his sleeve and stared at the burn mark stretched across his skin. It had long ago been healed, leaving just a pink mark, but it still prickled from time to time as though reminding him of what he had done. He wondered if Thomas had ever felt such a thing.

He took a swing. Thinking about Thomas hurt. The pain was still raw, even after all these years, but he was doing this for him, he had to believe that. To think it was all being ruined by that little… he looked down at his drink. He couldn’t afford to get drunk, not now, not when so much was at stake.

Scowling to himself and cursing John Silver once again, he threw the bottle aside and headed out. He had work to do.

He went down to Eleanor’s tavern and put on an air of a king. Some of his crew were also in the tavern and they cheered mightily when he entered. He put on a smirk for show and sauntered over to Eleanor. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Vane coming out of her office and he nearly dropped the mask. He didn’t have the strength to deal with another of his disappointing soulmates today.

He knew for certain that Vane had been conspiring against him to get him off his ship and put Singleton in charge, so there was that satisfaction of out playing him. Still, Flint wanted Vane to have no part in Eleanor’s life. He viewed her almost as his daughter of sorts and was very proud of what she had accomplished here. The only tragic part of all this is that Eleanor did not have a soulmate on either of her wrists. Never had them. It was common knowledge, however, that Vane had the name Eleanor Guthrie written on his left wrist. It was a rare occurrence, but for it to happen to any unlucky bastard, Flint was glad it had happened to Vane. Unfortunately, Flint knew for certain that the name James McGraw was written on Vane’s right wrist so there was no getting out of that unpleasantness. At least Vane had never found out his real name. That would have been disastrous.

They glared at each other as they passed, but thankfully no words were exchanged.  

Inside Eleanor’s office he informed Eleanor of his plan to take the Urca. It was imperative that he had her support in this, especially for getting the supplies that were needed for this mission. Mr. Scott, of course, was unimpressed. Eleanor though, was intrigued, and that was all Flint needed to play with.

Gates entered and informed him on how close they were to getting the schedule back. Now they just needed information out of a whore. One that, luckily enough, happened to sleep with Eleanor fairly often.

+

_Whore House, when Eleanor confronts Max:_

As he watched the whore get her heart broken, Flint had to admit that he didn’t quite understand the dynamic there. It was obvious that the two women cared for each other very much, but why? Eleanor had no soulmate, and this woman obviously did not have Eleanor’s name on her wrist or else she would not be a whore. Once a whore met their soulmate they were let go from the brothel. That was the way things worked in Nassau.

In the end he didn’t have time to worry too much about an insignificant whore’s troubles who had put her nose in business where it had no purpose being in, so once she gave the information, he left without another word. He had a meeting to break apart.

+

_The Wrecks, while chasing after Silver:_

He spotted the thief out of the corner of his eye. He was walking along casually as if he thought he was in the clear. Well think again Flint thought. He ran up to the other man and pushed him hard against the rock. “Where’s the page?” He growled out, practically shaking the other man.

“You can’t have it.” The thief had the nerve to say. Flint lost his temper at that and pulled out a knife placing it under his throat.

“N-not at the moment.” Silver stuttered out, voice rising in panic.

“Where have you hidden it?”

“You’re looking at it.” Silver replied.

“What the fuck you talking about?” Flint demanded. He could tell that desperation was leaking into his voice, but he didn’t care at this point. This man had played him for a fool and he would not tolerate it. Not anymore.

He couldn’t wait to sink his knife into the slimy bastard’s neck.

“Well I couldn’t be certain I would escape both the mad men and you, so I took drastic measures for the sake of my survival. The schedule is up here.” Silver said pointing to his head.

Flint was shocked… no dumbfounded. How the _fuck_ did this little shit manage to swindle them all again? He should be dead a thousand times over by now, but no, from the look of things, his miserable life would have to be spared for a little longer. 

+

_Miranda's House, the first night:_

Flint collapsed against the door. It was good to be able to see Miranda again, she was the only thing that made sense in the world now. The only rock he had that held his sanity. Without her he would be an untameable fire that burned too fast, destroying both everything around him and himself in the process. She was his wind though. She stoked his flames when he needed raging, and calmed him down when that wasn’t needed anymore. He was afraid, though, that he was going to need a lot more of that rage in the coming weeks if he was going to pull this whole thing off.

He got into the bath and sighed, leaning back and just enjoying the heat. He could almost forget all of his frustrations from the last couple of days. Almost.

Still though, he was tired and aching and he didn’t want to think of such things. Not tonight. For tonight he just wanted to relax. For tonight he just wanted peace.

+

_Miranda's House, the next morning:_

Telling Miranda that he found the schedule was a bittersweet occasion. They were so close, yet so far. The pieces of it all just had to come together and everything could be theirs. Telling Miranda about the schedule reminded him of Silver though. He debated telling her about him, but opted not to. He had buried that past and she would have encouraged him to get to know him, or at least attempt to form a silly bond. He could not do that.

Instead he just told her that a thief had stolen the page at first, but they had now found him, while carefully omitting any names that could arise. He also neglected to inform her of his near de-captaincy, but she didn’t need to worry about such things. He now had the crew fully under his control and that was all that mattered.

+

_Eleanor's office, when Silver writes out the schedule:_

He studied Silver as he watched him write out the schedule. For someone who was about to be killed he sure seemed quite sure of himself. Though they hadn’t outright told him they were going to dispose of him, someone so obsessed with looking after themselves would probably have figured out where their course lay in such a situation. Perhaps he had come to peace with such a thought.

Silver finished writing and handed the page over. Looking it over Flint immediately knew a part of it was missing. Silver’s contentedness made a lot more sense at that moment.

“Where’s the rest?”

“Beg pardon?”

Flint sighed, of course, the little shit was going to make him spell it out. “The Urca has a plan to stop to take on water somewhere on the coast of Florida. The point where they are the most vulnerable to attack. This, describes a course that ends miles short of the coast.” He paused for dramatic affect. Silver looked up with his perfect blue eyes that had the dichotomy of having seen far too much and far too little in this world. Flint couldn’t help but wonder where exactly this man had come from.

“Well I can’t exactly write that down can I?”

Silver knew that Flint knew what he was playing at, but the others were still one step behind. It was fascinating in a way to be in a situation where he wasn’t the only one that was three steps ahead of the game. Still though, Flint would make certain that he was going to take the thief down a level.

Billy mentioned bringing Joji in for torture. The immediate discord that washed over him took Flint by surprise. For whatever reason he did not want to torture the other man, but he refused to look too closely as to why that may be.

“… There may be a more mutually beneficial solution to all this. What if I were to remain with your crew?”

As the meaning of those words washed over him, Flint felt his gut clench. That would be a fucking horrible idea. There was no way he could handle having Silver near him every day for those couple of weeks. It would be torture to say the least.

However, as Silver kept talking, Flint couldn’t help but see the logic in the plan. He would be a fool to not at least consider it. There was, though, one last thing he wanted to test to see if Silver had thought of all angles.

“And when the Urca’s ours? What’s to stop me from killing you anyway?”

“Well, that’s a few weeks from now isn’t it? We might be friends by then.”

Flint smirked, oh how delightful. There was no way in hell that this little shit was getting anywhere close enough to him that they would be considered friends in any shape or fashion. He would look forward to killing him when the time came.

He was pleased to see Silver get visibly affected by his smile and Flint knew the power structure was back in place. Silver was now a lowly member of his crew and that meant that he had to answer to him. See how he liked that now.  

+

_Eleanor's office, meeting with Vane and Jack:_

Things seemed to be going to plan for once in his life when Gates decided to drop the bombshell that they needed Vane to lead the other crew. _Vane._ Was it ‘lets get all of James’ secret soulmates close to Flint month’ or something like that? Cause he was having none of it.

Gates had also informed him that Mossiah had been killed by Vane’s crew. Those fucking bastards had killed his men. There was no way in hell that he would work with them.

Somehow, though, he found himself in the meeting with Vane and Jack with Eleanor as the in-between. The tension in the room was palpable and Flint was not going to give any ground, no matter what Gates had said.

“I want to talk about Mossiah.” Flint said right off the bat. There was no way in hell that he was going to let that go. Especially when it came to Vane.

He hated the way Vane just sat there smoking his cigar like he didn’t have a care in the world. He knew that the only reason he was here was to get on Eleanor’s good side again and that made Flint hate him all the more. Eleanor deserved much better than this lowly fuck. Hell, he deserved better than this coward.

In these past ten years he had not had a single civilized conversation with Vane, and that, had continuously stacked up the evidence that the gods or whoever it was who assigned soulmates, had been wrong. There was no way Vane and him could ever get along.

+

_Miranda's House, second night:_

He walked into Miranda’s house only to find her reading Meditations to the bastard, Richard Guthrie. He slammed the door open hard to make sure that they knew he had heard. Inside his head, thoughts of Thomas came rushing back to him. That added with everything that had come to pass with Silver and Vane these past couple of days made everything nearly spill over. He held it in though. He would not lose his control in front of Mr. Guthrie.

Miranda walked over to the book shelf and silently put the offending book away. The silence stretched between them, widening the gap that seemed to constantly grow in this place.

Miranda looked down at her hands, seemingly to gather her thoughts, then looked up again. “So, do you know when you are sailing out again?”

Flint turned away. Anger was bubbling just under the surface, but he couldn’t let it loose. “Not quite. We are still waiting for some supplies, then we will head out.”

Miranda nodded her head. “And you have two crews? You said that you would need-”

“I know what I said.” Flint spat out. He sat down heavily on the bed and began taking off his shoes. He was not in the mood for an inquiry tonight. “Yes… Eleanor dissembled Vane’s crew, so now Gates will be leading those men on that ship and I will take the Walrus.”

“She did what?” Miranda asked, voice going sharp.

Flint sighed. Miranda had time and time again pleaded with him to talk to Vane and find a common ground. Flint always refused. She had too much faith in the false idea of soulmates. Children every day were being born without marks on their wrist. It was a dying fashion and everyone had to let it go. There was no need for such things anymore. “It’s for the best. Vane couldn’t have been trusted to go after the Urca with us. He would have backstabbed us at the first chance.”

“So you’re saying… that there was an agreement in place that had you working with Vane in a respectable fashion, but that Eleanor girl tore that apart?” Miranda said slowly, disbelief gracing her features. “Why?”

Flint shrugged. “He pissed her off.”

“And she thinks that gives her the right to, what? Ruin something good going on?”

“Ruin something good? Vane is a monster. When are you going to accept that? I’ve let you go on about how we should be friends and the such, but you have never met him. If you did, you would realize that it just could never happen.”

“I have met him.” Miranda said quietly.

“What?” Flint was certain that he had misheard her. There was no way that was possible.

“I have met him. I have met him multiple times. I have talked to him, argued, conversed, agreed. I know who he is and what he has done. There are many things that he has done that I don’t agree with, but he is not the monster you have made him out to be. There are worse men out there, hell there are probably worse men on your crew right now than him.”

“Stop.”

“No. For once just listen. I can see why you two are connected and I can see how you two could work together. The both of you could achieve so much if you would just-”

“I’ve had enough of this conversation. I don’t know what compelled you to go behind my back and have this conversation with him, but I ask of you not to do so again. Especially now. He is a dangerous man with a wild temper and no good can come out of being associated with him.”

“But…”

“Miranda.” Flint warned, voice going low. Miranda pursed her lips closed and turned her head away, but thankfully didn’t say anything further. James quickly got ready for bed and turned off the oil lamp. They lay there in the dark not speaking, facing opposite directions. Neither were happy with how the day had ended. 

+

_Beach, after careening disaster:_

Silver was this annoying bug that wouldn’t go away, and the worst part was that he couldn’t kill it. He needed to keep it alive for the time being and that enraged him. Especially with the way Silver kept trying to butt his head in everyone’s business. If Flint were of a calmer, objective temperament he may have been more sympathetic to Silver’s ways. Though part of it was just Silver’s annoying personality, another part was his unfortunate attraction to Flint that Silver did not realize yet, and if Flint had it his way, never will.

There was always this inescapable draw that happened between romantic soulmates. It was obvious in the way Vane couldn’t let go of Eleanor, in how James had been helpless to resist Thomas, in how Thomas had been drawn to James. There was no getting out of it, but Flint refused to be swayed. He was not James McGraw and the little remnants of him that existed in Flint were what Silver was drawn to. Since Flint was not McGraw anymore, he was, therefore, immune. If Miranda were to hear such thoughts, she would have laughed at him.

As it was, Silver seemed to follow Flint around like a puppy, and Flint grew more and more annoyed with each passing second. That wasn’t the only problem. He was also a beautiful, smart puppy and… Flint could not believe he had just referred to Silver as a puppy. He needed to get this man out of his head. After the unloading disaster that led to Randall losing his leg and Richard Guthrie going behind their back Flint realized that these set backs may actually be a blessing in disguise when it came to the Silver situation.  

He informed Billy to bring Randall up to Eleanor’s office and went to find Silver, who astonishingly enough, was no where to be found. After a good fifteen-minute search he found him chatting pleasantly with Joji. Already irritated with him, this just annoyed him further and so he grabbed Silver’s arm without explanation and dragged him off.

“Hey!” Silver exclaimed, trying to extract his arm. Flint just held on tighter and practically dragged him down the street. Needless to say, they were attracting a lot of strange looks, but at this point, Flint didn’t care anymore.

“I promise I will follow you to wherever you are going if you would just let go of my arm.” Silver growled. Flint shot him a glare, but relented, letting go.

Silver gave him a scowl, rubbing the abused limb. Not that Flint had actually hurt him, Silver really did have a low tolerance for pain, the idiot.

“Where are we going, may I ask?”

Flint just stared straight ahead. He would see soon enough.

“Fine. Don’t answer me… though I must say that was quite rude. I was having a nice little chat with Joji about sword fighting and what he would do with the gold when-”

Flint slammed Silver against the wall. “Do you ever shut up?” he hissed, pressing into him. The blue eyes widened in surprise and no small amount of terror.

“I’m sorry, I was just making small talk.” Silver said. “Thought it would be better than talking about ship politics since you are so keen on avoiding that subject.”

“I want you to keep you damn mouth shut.” Flint hissed, his temper rising. He shifted a bit, then realized the position they were in. Their faces were close together, breaths intermingling, and he was crowding into Silver’s space, making it impossible for him to escape. All he had to do was lean down half an inch and his lips would be on the other man’s.

Flint sprang back abruptly, causing Silver to fall forward a bit. Turning heel, he quickly continued walking down the street. He couldn’t believe he had just thought of kissing Silver. What the fuck was wrong with him? There was no way on earth that he was attracted to him. It was just the stress of this mission and the heat. That was it. He just needed more water and he would be fine. Until then it was a good thing he was locking the thief up at Eleanor’s. His stupid mind tricks were too much for Flint right now.

“Do you plan on me to follow, or did you just wish to tell me to shut up?” Silver called after him. Flint stopped in his tracks and closed his eyes, barely repressing a shudder. “Keep walking.” He growled, then continued to storm away. The sound of footsteps hurrying to catch up let Flint know that Silver had obeyed his order.

They entered the tavern and Flint once again grabbed Silver’s arm, though not as hard this time and steered him into the office. Billy was already there with a sleeping Randall laying on the bench.

“What is going on?” Silver asked, uncertainty creeping into his voice. Good. It was better if he was afraid.

Without a word, Flint jerked him over, and before Silver could do anything, attached a handcuff to Silver and Randall’s wrists.

“Hey!!”

“You will be staying here.”

“But she’ll kill me!”

Flint smirked. “Well that’s your problem then.” He gestured to Billy to go, and got up to leave.

“But you need what’s in my head!” Silver protested, yanking on the handcuff. It would be of no use; Randall could be a real heavy weight.

“Exactly.” Flint retorted. He made the mistake of looking back and seeing understanding alight in Silver’s eyes. He had said too much. Before he could make anymore silly mistakes, he quickly left the room and followed after Billy.

“Aren’t you worried he might get into trouble?” Billy asked.

“Oh I know he’ll get into trouble, it’s in his nature. I just plan on minimizing that trouble.” Flint replied. Billy nodded in understanding, but he still looked unconvinced. It was no matter, what did matter was that Flint now had a couple of days’ freedom from that little shit, and life couldn’t get any better than that.

+

_Eleanor's office, after coming back from the Adromache:_

Of course Silver would have found a way to ensure his survival. Was no one safe from the slimy words the man spewed except for himself? It was getting on his nerves. Everything about the man was getting on his nerves. To think that he basically made it so that Eleanor was pitted against Flint if Silver got killed.

Looking over at the little shit he couldn’t help but be a little impressed. That didn’t make things any better though. His stupid wrist tingled again, the damn thing had been acting up more lately. He refused to see a correlation.

Knowing Silver had won this round he bade him come with him back to the ship. He might as well actually get started being a cook. The thought of Silver being the new cook for the crew made him feel nauseous, but the façade needed to be kept if things were to go to plan.

“What did you do to get Eleanor on your side?”

Silver shrugged and gave one of his signature bright smiles. “Oh, you know, just played to people’s interests. Got them what they needed and wanted. That sort of thing. Nothing big.”

Cryptic little shit.

“You know… this should just show you that I can be a valuable member of your crew if you let me. I mean, look at me single handily helping save your entire mission. I think, that if we work together, we could achieve great things.”

Flint rolled his eyes. Like that was going to happen. Then a though struck him and he stopped in the middle of the street, Silver who was walking right behind him nearly bumped into him.

“Come on.”

He turned his hell and started to walk to the market instead of back to the docks.

“Where are we going?” Silver called after him. Flint just kept walking, like a man on a mission. Down at the market he bought a bunch of vegetables and herbs as well as some choice selections of meats. Silver followed along after him, looking at Flint like he was mad. “I didn’t realize it was your job to stock up the ship.”

Flint rolled his eyes. At this rate his eyes were going to be permanently stuck in an upward position if he had to listen to anymore of Silver’s quips. Once he was satisfied with his selection he grabbed onto Silver’s arm again and yanked him back up to Eleanor’s tavern.

“Do you have to grab my arm?” Silver asked in exasperation.

Flint looked down at said arm in surprise. He hadn’t realized he had done that. Quickly he let go and picked up his pace, he had to stop doing that.

“Why are we heading back to the tavern?” Silver asked as he realized where they were going. Apprehension crossing his face, it was obvious he did not want to be put under Eleanor’s guard again, for whatever reason.

“I’m going to teach you how to cook. If you are to be feeding my men on my ship, I will not have them dying off because of food poisoning.”

Silver pouted, he actually pouted. “I thought you were going to be giving me a new position. One that didn’t involve such… skills.”

“Everyone already thinks you are the cook. It would draw suspicion if you were suddenly placed at a different duty. Besides,” Flint said, looking Silver over “You wouldn’t be fit to fill any other position.”

“Hey!”

Flint smirked as he strode inside and went to the kitchen. After a quick word with the cook, he granted them an hour to work on some stuff. Satisfied, Flint spread out the ingredients on the table and turned to Silver. The other man was staring around the kitchen as if the room itself was a foreign entity to him. Good lord, Flint had his work cut out for him.

He slammed a pot down on the table in front of Silver, startling him. “Go fill this with water.”

Silver scowled at both Flint and the pot, but in the end headed out to do as he was told. While he was gone Flint set up his cooking station and decided what ingredients to use. Once satisfied he waited for the other man to return.

Silver came in a few moments later, struggling to keep the small pot lifted. Flint shook his head, he sometimes wondered how Silver came to be on a ship in the first place, he obviously was not a seafaring man.

“Put it over there.” Flint said, gesturing to the fire place. Silver stared at him like he was mad.

“What?”

“I’m not putting this in the fire.”

Flint stared at Silver for a few seconds trying to figure out whether he was joking or not. Silver just stared back at him in alarm. Rolling his eyes again, Flint took the pot from Silver and went over to the fire place, placing the pot carefully in between the iron holdings that held the pot above the flames.

“There, was that so hard?”

Silver looked down, chagrined.

Flint shook his head. “Right, now come over here.” He said, gesturing to the ingredients he had laid out. “Most of the time you will just be making a quick stew. Now only an idiot can mess up a stew, so this will probably be very hard for you.”

Silver threw up his hands in exasperation. “Okay, just because I don’t know how to cook doesn’t mean-”

“Just shut up and listen.” Flint growled. He didn’t have time for measly excuses. “Now most stews you’ll put in some type of meat. For today, I got chicken, but sometimes it will be goat, beef, or pork. There are slight differences in how you cook the meat, but for now I don’t care if you overcook it, as long as it gets cooked.”

Flint quickly taught Silver how to make a stew, then while they waited, taught him the basics of how to chop, flavour, and cook different simple dishes.

“Why don’t you cook more often?” Silver asked. Flint looked up, from where he was dicing an onion, in confusion. “I mean, you obviously love doing it, and you actually look at peace right now. I just think that you could probably have a better life if you pursued cooking as a career, instead of well…”

“Pirating.”

“Yeah.”

Flint put down his knife and gathered his thoughts. Silver’s points were hitting a bit too close to home for his liking. “I have my reasons, as I’m sure you have yours for being a lying shit. You have not earned my trust to be made known of those reasons.”

Silver’s face closed off and he made a face at the carrot he was attempting to slice. Key word being attempting.

Flint went over to the stew and tasted it. It was not bad. Taking out a bowl, he put some in and gave it to Silver. “This is what you will be making for the crew from now on. Don’t do anything fancy.”

Silver nodded, strangely quiet for once in his life. Flint looked over him for a second, a strange feeling of regret creeping over him, but he quickly pushed that to the side. Instead he grabbed his coat and headed to the door. “Clean this place up and head back to the beach. You’ll have to help load the ship.”

The sound of curses following after him put a grin on his face.

+

_Miranda's House, day before they leaving for Urca:_

Flint stormed into the Miranda’s house, emotions a mess. He still couldn’t understand why she had sent that letter. With his luck of course, it had to have been Billy who found the letter, which stoked his suspicions, and he couldn’t even properly defend himself since it had caught him off guard too. Now Gates was going to leave him as well after this was over. It was as if everything was falling to pieces. For the first time in his life he felt betrayed by the one person he thought he could always trust. They had been through so much together, lost so much. Yet at this moment, Flint did not understand her anymore.

“Do you know what you’ve done?” Flint demanded of Miranda, staring holes into her back. “What madness possessed you to write that letter?”

“I tried to tell you.”

“Billy found it. If he’d have shown anyone before I discovered him, but for dumb luck, I’d be dead.”

“I’m sorry.” Miranda said, standing up. “You know I would never intentionally put you in any kind of danger.”

“What was your intent? What was it? For from what I recall, just a couple of days ago you were pleading my case to go talk to Vane. Now what? You wanted me to renounce everything we have built here?”

Miranda closed her eyes. “Don’t. You have made it quite clear that you never had any intention of reconciling matters with Vane and after talking to Richard Guthrie and a couple of other people I came to a realization. You want to know what my intent was? It was to show you a way out of all this, to free you.”

Flint couldn’t believe what he was hearing. After all they have been through, how could she think that he would have wanted this? What she had done was not a way out, no it would have been another cage, just another step further away from who he used to be. By apologizing to England he would have to once again become a changed man. One who was a coward and could accept what they had done to him. That was something that he could not do.

“The moment I sign that pardon. The moment I ask for one, I proclaim to the world that they were right. This ends when I grant them my forgiveness. Not the other way around.”

“This path you’re on… it doesn’t lead where you think it does.” Miranda said.

Flint had had enough at that point. He had to get out of there. No matter what she tried to say, she was wrong. He would build Nassau to be a prosperous safe place again. One that would make Thomas proud. That was what he was doing here, right? That was why he was still out there fighting every single damn day.

“If he were here, he’d agree with me.” Miranda called out.

Flint froze at the door. The words entering in his mind, causing a little seed of doubt to grow. In the end though, he was still too filled with anger to listen to anything else she had to say. Slamming the door behind him, he made his way back to coast. He had to keep believing he was doing the right thing, otherwise… what was he then?

+

_Walrus, sometime out at sea:_

Flint’s right wrist gave a sharp twinge. Flint looked down in confusion. While he was used to his left wrist constantly bothering him, especially lately, his right wrist never did anything. At first he was concerned that something had happened to Miranda, but no, her name was still neatly written in black on his skin.

No, it was Vane’s name that seemed to be fading in and out, going from black to dark grey to light then back again. From what Flint had heard before they had left for the Urca, Vane had disappeared somewhere. Wherever he was now, he must be in trouble, nearly dying by the looks of things.

Surprisingly, Flint felt a bit of sorrow at that. While he hated the other man, he couldn’t deny that he was a good pirate. Shaking his head, Flint jerked down his sleeve. He couldn’t worry about Vane now, whatever shit he got into was his problem. Either way, the loss would not affect him.

+

_Walrus, after Gates' death:_

“Take it from me, there’s always another way.”

Those words kept ringing in his head over and over again as they set their plan in motion to take on the Spanish warship. He still couldn’t quite comprehend why Silver decided to defend him after he found him over Gate’s body. Yes, the crew would be mad at him for stealing the schedule, but with his wits and his tongue he would have surely found a way out of it.

He pushed those thoughts out of his mind for now. They needed to prepare. The problem was, they needed to bait the warship, and with that they needed someone who could speak Spanish… and well.

Flint thought back to those ‘lessons’ that he had taken with Miranda. At first they had ended up with both of them in bed, and after, when his relationship with Thomas had begun, the Spanish lessons quickly turned into long talks about philosophy and politics. They had been fascinating and engrossing at the time, but now Flint was sort of regretting never truly learning the language. He knew the basics, but he was far from fluent.

“I can speak Spanish.” Silver said. Flint looked over at him surprised. Well wasn’t he a ball bag of tricks. Looking over at Silver more closely proved that this could be very beneficial indeed. With his dark hair and tanned skin, he could easily pass as a Spaniard, and his boyish charm made him seem innocent and believable. This might actually work.

He gave Silver a rare honest smile, and patted him on the shoulder before heading off to confer with Dufrense. He couldn’t felt but feel his heart twinge a bit upon seeing how that smile led to Silver’s own face lighting up.

+

_Water, after failed warship attack:_

There was nothing left. Nothing to fight for now, everything was pointless. Flint couldn’t recall at what point the strands of thread that held his plan, hell his life, together started to wear thin. Could it have been when Miranda had sent that letter? Or when Billy had grown suspicious? Or perhaps this whole plan, all these ten years of work, were a pointless mess that was inevitably going to lead him here, with him in the water surrounded by dead crew members and broken pieces of debris.  

Billy, Gates, Thomas… they were all dead. Miranda was mad at him, Vane hated him and he hated him in return as well, and was probably dead too for all he knew, and Silver, well he didn’t even want to think about him. He was so tired, tired of fighting, tired of believing he could build a better world, tired of everything.

In the end, perhaps this was the best way to go. Back to the sea, back to the cold depths that so represented his soul. Perhaps it was time to finally find peace.


	5. Ignoring Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! This chapter did not want to write itself lol
> 
> Trigger warning: Mentions of suicide by slashing wrists

_The Warship, after capturing it:_

 

Flint did not know what to think anymore. He had been sure that this was the end, but then… it was not — he had been dragged onto the beach, and low and behold, the Spanish gold was not all lost. He had expected his former crew to kill him at a moment’s notice, but instead here he was, on the warship, claiming it for them. He had expected to die once again at the hands of the Spanish men, but then, somehow, both him and Silver had escaped death’s clutches once again. Most of all, though, he had expected Silver to run off at his first chance, yet here he was. Flint was entirely unsure as to what was going on in Silver’s mind.

His actions were one contradiction after the next. From saving Flint, to volunteering, to following him into the hopeless plan, it didn’t exactly follow the decision making skills of someone who was purely self-serving. As the dust cleared and the ship was theirs, Flint couldn’t help but gaze over at Silver and wonder where exactly did Silver’s loyalties lie and for how long would those loyalties last.

Then it was a waiting game. Waiting to see if their actions had actually made a damn difference to the crew. For what seemed to be the first time, Silver was actually quiet; the reality of his potential death actually coming to pass made him lose his will to make quick jibes or sardonic remarks. Silver might have, for once, chosen the wrong side to be on. Flint thought about reassuring him, but in the end the words would most likely fall flat.

In the end, they were pardoned, and within seconds, Silver was back to his conniving schemes and quick wit, like he had known everything was going to be fine. Flint didn’t remark on it, but he knew. He knew that, even for only a moment, Silver had chosen the side that was not necessarily conductive for his survival, and the reason for that was most likely the result of the name written on his left wrist, and all that it entailed. The scary thing was that Silver still believed that everything he did was solely for himself, and if he ever found out… well that just might become a problem.  

 

_The Warship, meal time:_

 

Silver sat down to eat his meal across from Flint. Looking up, Flint found his eyes straying to Silver’s wrists, whose arms were bare for anyone to see. From his angle he could only see the right wrist, which had the name _Madi Scott_ written across it.

“Have you ever met her?” Flint asked, gesturing to Silver’s wrist before he could stop himself.

Silver looked up in surprise, then down at his wrist. “No.” he said with a shrug. “Doesn’t really matter either way. She’s just my platonic one.”

Flint felt irritation wash over him. “Platonic soulmates are important too.” He spat out.

Silver smirked. “Yeah, but there isn’t that same stupid connection thing or whatever it is that comes with the romantic ones. I would think it would suck to get attached to someone like that. That’s why I hope I never meet my romantic soulmate.” Silver said, showing Flint his left wrist. The name _James McGraw_ was written neatly across it. Flint’s stomach turned over. Though he had known that Silver most likely carried his name, it still felt weird to see it there, actually solidifying the fact that Flint was so desperately wishing to ignore — Silver was really his soulmate. “Wish I had been one of those born without a name." Silver continued. "Wouldn’t have to worry about any of it then. Besides it’s stupid that your life is supposed to be connected to some stranger. What’s the point in that?”

Flint felt sick to the stomach. Not that he wanted Silver as his soulmate, but the thought that he would reject him even if he did know it was him did not bode well with Flint. Not for the first time, Flint was glad that he had gotten rid of that mark on his wrist. Silver was right, it was better not to get connected to someone. “Well, perhaps self-centered people like you don’t deserve them.” Flint said, getting up.

Silver frowned, obviously puzzled by Flint’s change in demeanor. “Don’t tell me you believe in that crap… hold on.” Silver’s eyes widened in surprise, and before Flint knew what was happening, reached out and grabbed onto Flint’s left wrist.

It was purely reactionary when Flint yanked his arm free so hard that Silver toppled out of his chair and sent both of their plates flying across the room. Still, no one was allowed to touch his wrist ever. No one. Everyone went silent, staring at them. Flint glanced around the room, glaring at anyone who dared make eye contact with him, his wrist still tingled where Silver had grabbed onto it. Movement brought Flint’s focus back to Silver who quickly got up and slipped out of the room before anything more could be said. Flint stared after him in confusion. It wasn’t like such a thing could have actually hurt Silver, and Flint had made it very clear time and time again— his business was his alone. Silver should know that by now. Still, that didn’t stop the guilt that creeped in at the back of his mind, which annoyed the hell out of Flint. Why should he feel guilty? It wasn’t like he had done anything wrong. Conflicted over his myriad of thoughts and feelings, he also left the dining area and made his way to a quiet corner to sit and think.

It was there that the idea of how to get the ship back came to him, and instead of worrying about Silver, used all his brain power on that. Once the plan came fully into place in his mind, he got to work.

 

_The Warship, after reclaiming captincy:_

 

As he sat in his new captain’s cabin he thought over everything that had passed in the last couple of days. Mainly, that meant thinking about Silver.

He couldn’t help but replay Silver’s words over and over about how he wanted to get away from this life, get away from him. Now he knew that, for whatever reason, Silver was still peeved about what had happened at the dining hall when he had said that, but it did make Flint wonder if Silver could actually walk away from him. Especially considering the great lengths he went to integrate himself with the crew. There were surely easier ways to do so, but none that would have the same affect of successfully bringing together the crew and giving him this weird sort of power over them. It was almost like he wanted to bury his roots into the crew, and entangle them so much so that they would be hard to yank free. This way he would both be bound to the crew, but also to Flint, his soulmate, which should say a lot about their situation.

Vane sure as hell couldn’t walk away from Eleanor, no matter how much he tried to. Flint doubted he actually wanted to, still holding on to the foolish dream that she would change her mind. So what was to say that Silver wasn’t subconsciously doing the same?

Flint considered himself above all of this, after all, he knew what Silver was supposed to mean to him, but he refused to act on it. He had made his choice years ago, and he was sticking to it. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder, as he watched Silver win the crew over by getting beat up, if in another lifetime, another universe perhaps, they might have been good together.

Flint shook his head, there was no point mulling over could haves and what ifs. There course was set and there was no changing it. If Silver wanted to unknowingly grow attached then that was his problem, and if he fell, Flint was not going to be there to catch him.

 

_Nassau, after talking with Eleanor:_

 

Flint could not believe it — there was actually a chance to obtain the gold easily and here Vane was, blocking his way again. It was like his whole existence was made to hinder Flint’s plans. To make matters worse, of course Eleanor had to bring Vane in to her little consortium. She was lying to herself if she thought she wasn’t affected by Vane’s soulmate business.

Since he had noticed Vane’s name flicker on his wrist he hadn’t noticed any more activity — or more truthfully, he hadn’t looked — but he had thought that Vane was dead. A glance at his wrist showed his name still shining bright black against his pale skin. Maddening really, especially when his soulmate would have actually done him a favour, for once, if he was dead.

To hear her go on about how she had no choice was infuriating. Flint needed Vane out of the fort no matter what, and unlike Eleanor, he would, and could, do whatever was necessary to ensure the future of this place. If Vane didn’t leave it soon, he was going to attack it. This, unfortunately, would leave Nassau vulnerable to attack, but, after all, one needed to sometimes tear things apart to make it stronger again.

 

_Miranda's house:_

 

As he peered through Miranda’s window, he couldn’t help but pause at the sight before him. She was laughing and playing with some neighbour’s children, and music was flowing through the house. She was smiling, an actual, honest to god smile. He hadn’t seen her look this happy and content in years. Where had the love gone between them? Were they really just hanging together by a thread of past ghosts? Too stubborn to let go?

They were soulmates, they were supposed to look out for each other, care for one another. Looking in on her with the other family made it quite clear that he had failed her of this on so many levels. Miranda thrived on interacting with other people; she blossomed when her brain was put to the test against someone else’s wit. Having to be alone for days on end while he was at sea must have been torture for her, always wondering, worrying if he would ever come back. Terrified that one morning she would look down at her wrist and find his name to be grey and crossed out. He had never thought about that before, so consumed by his own need to fulfill his lost love’s dream, and that pained him. She deserved so much more. She deserved so much better.

With a lump in his throat he took out the book he was going to give to her. He found, though, that he could not bring himself to interrupt such festivities. His dark presence would only scare the others away. Instead he wrote down two words that could not do anything to repair what had taken place over the last decade, but hopefully show her that he did still care. That he did still love her.

Placing the book on the doorstep, he took one last look through the window before disappearing into the night.

 

_The Warship, preparing for attack on Fort:_

 

He knew Silver wasn’t happy with him, knew he didn’t agree with the actions Flint was engineering, but Flint didn’t care. He needed to do this for Nassau’s sake. Silver just cared about the gold, it wasn’t in his interests to protect Nassau. To him, there was no issue here — they would travel back to get the gold with Hornigold and retrieve it. From there Silver would disappear with his portion and never be seen again. Flint couldn’t let that happen.

So he addressed his crew, ignoring the harsh glares directed his way by Silver. Egged them on and made them ready for a battle against his sworn enemy — Vane — and ensured that they would come out on top. After that, with this plan they would still go get the gold and return glorious and invincible.

As the night turned into day, doubts and worries creeped back in that the darkness had shielded from him in its euphoric power. Could he really leave Nassau unguarded? The British were coming after all, and if they found an unguarded fort they would seize the island in a matter of minutes. It wouldn’t matter if they had all the gold in the world if the British were once again controlling his island.

Of course then Eleanor had to go and firmly put her cards in with Vane and helped him come up with a politically ingenious move that Vane was too idiotic to come up with. The words 'madman on the water' echoed over and over in his head. He didn’t let anything show though, not to Eleanor, not to Hornigold or to the crew when he told them what was happening, but still, it bothered him greatly. Would they actually see him as the madman? After everything that he had done for them? Did they not see that because of his tenacity, through his unbending pursuit, that they had this island as it was in the first place? Vane was not the answer here, he could never help them in the way that Flint could, and was currently doing now, but because of Eleanor he was being dragged wrongfully through the scum of that which he had raised them from.

Then he had to go and ask Silver for his opinion. He didn’t know what possessed him, and as the conversation continued he greatly regretted doing so. Silver, through some unknown powers, managed to look right through his façade and see what Flint was so desperately hiding from everyone else.

_God, it must be awful being you._

Silver had no idea, but yet… he did. Flint wasn’t ready for that and he sure as hell didn’t need a slimy little shit like him to get under Flint’s skin. It didn’t matter that in some form or another he needed Silver, it didn’t matter that in some small form he almost respected Silver, he couldn’t let him get to him. As he sat in his cabin long after Silver was gone, he couldn’t help but feel it may already be too late for that.

 

_Nassau beach, preparing for attack on the Fort:_

 

Seeing Miranda on the beach nearly gave Flint a heart attack. It wasn’t safe for her to be there. The need to protect her was strong, but apparently her need to protect him was even stronger. To this day he still admired her strength to do so. They sometimes butted heads in the way they went about things, but in the end they always found a way. As Miranda led him away from the beach he reminded himself of this, forcing himself to keep an open mind. Then she told him about Abagail Ash.

Memory after memory came washing back over him, threatening to engulf his very existence. He did not need Thomas’ ghost to come back to haunt him right now. Not when so much was at stake. They had everything in their grasp, on a beach defended by Spanish soldiers.

“There is no other way once you’re willing to tell the truth about your intentions here.” Miranda shouted out just as Flint was leaving.

Flint turned around, how could she not understand what he was doing? She had been by his side for ten years. “I think I have made my intentions very clear.”

“No, you’ve been anything but clear. You say you fight for the sake of Nassau, for the sake of your men, for the sake of Thomas and his memory, but the truth of the matter is it isn’t for any of those things.”

“What the fuck do you think I am fighting for?” Flint asked. Everything he did was for the sake of Thomas. Every ship he took, every drop of blood he spilled. It was all in Thomas’ name. His grey name on his wrist a constant reminder of just why he was fighting.

“I think you’re fighting for the sake of fighting.” Miranda said. “Because it is the only state within which you can function. The only way you can keep that voice in your head from driving you mad.”

“What are you talking about? What voice?” Flint growled, though Miranda’s words were hitting far too close to home. Far more than he would even begin to admit or acknowledge.

“The one telling you to be ashamed of yourself.” Miranda said. “For having loved him. You were told that it was shameful, and part of you believed it. Thomas was my husband. I loved him, and he loved me, but what he shared with you? It was entirely something else. It’s time you allowed yourself to accept that.”

It hit Flint like a force, and all the insults and disgusted looks that he had ever received for his condition came back to him. The sneers when they saw his two romantic names, the mockery when they realized that it was two men. The look of pure disgust on General Hennessey’s face as he kicked him out of the Navy, the smug hate on Alfred Hamilton’s face as he called him depraved. The fact that he would dare love the man made for him, dare even think he could have this one love when it was so obvious it wouldn’t ever be enough for him. But it was enough, it was everything he could have ever wanted and he would have never asked for more. He just didn’t ever get the chance to prove that.

“The only thing I’m ashamed of, is that I didn’t do something to save him when we had the chance. That instead, I listened to you.” He knew the words were needlessly cruel, but at that moment he didn’t care. Thomas and him should have been able to have a life together, but instead here he was on this messed up island with only distant pieces of his heart left of the man he used to be, and a memory that seemed to become more foreign every day.

When Vane came to attack him, just for a second he considered letting himself be killed. Then he looked into the fury laced in Vane’s eyes and he refused to let himself bow down so easily. If anyone was going to get another grey mark on their wrist it was going to be him, not Vane.

When things got broken up, Flint realized that Miranda was right, there was an opportunity here too important to give up. He called a meeting, but after he explained himself, Vane once against went against his plans. It was almost a pattern now. Flint would almost say that the reason his name was on his wrist was because they were destined to always be on opposing sides. It made much more sense than the alternative.

 

_Outside of Eleanor's tavern, after the meeting:_

 

Flint had to admit, having Miranda at his side would be a welcome comfort. He would finally be at sea with someone he fully trusted and someone who fully understood him and what he was fighting for. He also liked the sound of them being partners once again. Over the years they had drifted apart; it would be good to get back to the same footing.

“Captain.” Silver’s voice rang out through the street. Flint immediately went on alert. He didn’t want Silver and Miranda in any way getting involved with each other. No good would come out of that. As Flint watched Silver come closer he could practically feel the vibes of jealousy emitting off of him. It was interesting to say the least, but not something that Flint could look into at the moment. He had to separate the two of them as soon as possible. Thankfully, Miranda knew better than to come in between him and his crew, so she quickly left.

Flint turned his attention back to Silver. For some reason his mind registered that he wasn’t smiling. It was an odd thing to take note of, but Flint didn’t like it. Silver had a pretty smile, even it was usually the result of some idiotic scheme, it would be a shame to not see it again.

 

_Nassau beach, after discovering the gold is gone:_

 

It came with a sharp stab that he needed Silver. He had been starting to realize that for awhile now, but had never really accepted it before. It was one thing to abstractly acknowledge the importance of a person for your plans, it was another to realize that if they were gone you would be reduced to nothing.

When he ordered Silver to sway people’s votes he had not realized his reliance. When he had lied to Silver about the gold being a priority he had not realized his dependency. When he discussed with Billy numbers he did not realize that everything hinged on one man’s ability to sway the opinion’s of others. It was only when Silver was standing before him, defiant and not wanting to continue on, that he realized that Silver was important to him and he could not let him go.

So he sunk in his teeth, drew blood so to speak, and ensured that Silver would not slip away, like was in his nature to do so. He made sure to press the point home that with this crew Silver mattered, that they listened to him. Underneath it all, so slight that he didn’t even know if Silver had caught it, there was Flint calling out to him too, saying that he needed Silver. That Silver mattered to him and if he left than Flint would be done for. All his plans and goals would turn to ash and Flint would be left with nothing. Flint needed Silver, and he would be damned if he was letting him go.  

 

_The Warship, on the way to Charlestown:_

 

Things actually worked out and they were actually out at sea. It seemed strange to be able to actually talk to Miranda whenever he so chose to. Usually his visits were carefully planned out and the duration of them, more often than not, cut short due to some sort of urgent business or other.

Flint had to say that he spent more hours than he should have in his cabin, talking to Miranda about this or that. Sometimes it was about what they were going to do in Charlestown, sometimes it was about Abigail, but sometimes it was just random chats about the books they had read recently and the little stories they hadn’t found time to share yet. It warmed Flint’s heart more than he could possibly say, and it made him realize how much he missed this, being able to just talk to someone about anything.

Flint, against his wishes, found himself gaining hope again. The dark corners of his mind that had threatened to consume him wholly were slowly being pushed back. Light was trickling in again, and Flint believed that there was a way to end all this, that he and Miranda could eventually find a little cottage together and live the rest of their life out peacefully. They were dangerous thoughts, but Flint couldn’t help himself from truly believing in them.

The only thing that put a hinge to such thoughts was the presence of a certain cook aboard the ship. He had hoped that he would be able to keep Silver and Miranda apart for the duration of it, but it was not to be. Frankly he was surprised it took her till nearly the end of their voyage to find out.

Miranda stormed into the cabin and stood in front of Flint. “John Silver.”

“What about him.” He said, pretending to ignore the insinuation of those words.

Miranda sighed. “I have to admit I am surprised. He is definitely… not what I expected.”

Flint raised an eyebrow. "What were you expecting?"

"I don't know... I guess I was picturing another Thomas so to speak." Flint glared up at her, he knew his face was stony and unapproachable, but still she continued on. "Anyways, why don't you ask him to join us for dinner tonight. I would like to be formerly introduced to your other soulmate."

Flint stood up abruptly and slammed his hands down on the table. Even if such a conversation was perhaps inevitable, he did not want to talk about it. “He is just my cook. Nothing more.” He made sure the warning in his voice was clear.

Miranda, however, was not deterred. “Yes I can see that. I can see that he is just a cook by the way the crew listens to what he has to say. Just a cook by how he holds his daily roll call or whatever the hell that is. Just a cook by the way he has your favour and is the one person on this crew who you constantly go to when you need to discuss things.” Upon seeing Flint still carrying a stony expression, she threw her hands in the air. "Oh come on James! You can't keep hiding from this."

"I'm not hiding from anything."

"Stop acting like a ch-"

“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?” Flint yelled, standing up abruptly. "What Miranda? You want me to go up to him and tell him we are supposed to be together? That I've known all along? Fuck that! He doesn't want that and neither do I, so what the hell do you want me to do?"

“To admit to yourself that he means something to you.”

Flint grew ashen. “He is just my cook.”

“You and I both know that’s not true. Thomas would have wanted you-”

“Don’t.”

Miranda raised her voice again. “Thomas would have wanted you to give him a chance. He would have wanted you to be happy again.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Flint closed his eyes. Because it would be spitting in the face of Thomas’ memory — to be with someone so self-centered and distrustful — because the man was an annoying pest who thought he was smarter than he was. Because…

“You don’t want to get hurt again. I understand, but you can’t keep living in fear like this. Not when you have this wonderful opportunity. You already let one go with Vane. Don’t let this one go too.”

Flint shook his head. He didn’t have time to deal with this. Without another word he strode out of the cabin and onto the deck. Checking the sails, he was pleased to see that they were making good time. A quick glance over at Abigail showed that she was busy talking with Joji. Good.

Against his will, his eyes trailed to Silver. He was standing beside Billy and Degroot. They seemed to be going over some sailing terms or whatever judging by the pointing Degroot and Billy were doing to different boat sections. Good, Silver needed to learn if he was going to be a part of this crew.

Flint ignored the fact that he had already made a place for Silver with his crew in his mind after all this was done. Instead he walked over to where Silver was standing. They looked up, but Flint only had eyes for Silver. “May I have a word.”

Degroot and Billy quickly got lost. Silver gave one of his signature charming smiles that never failed to make Flint’s heart stutter. He was getting too old for this shit.

“We shall be arriving at Charlestown tomorrow.”

“So I’ve heard. What do you expect to find there?”

Flint shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ll need you to stay behind on the ship. Look out for the crew. If anything goes wrong, get them out of here.”

Silver froze beside him. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me.” Flint refused to look over at Silver. He did not want to even guess at the emotions crossing his face at the moment. “Get the crew together and leave. They’ll listen to you.”

“Shouldn’t you be telling this to Mr. Scott? Your quartermaster?”

Flint smirked, turning around to face the ship. Mr. Scott was chatting amicably with Muldoon at the moment. “I trust you. Not him. Besides I believe that when push comes to shove, the crew will follow you over him.” He then turned and looked Silver straight in the eyes. “Do this for me. Please.”

Silver looked conflicted. Like he wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure how to say it. Finally, he tightened his lips and nodded his head. “Fine. Do me a favour though.”

Flint raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Don’t let anything go wrong?”

Flint let out a loud laugh. So loud that it drew a bunch of looks from other crew members. Silver’s eyes widened.

He clapped a hand against Silver’s shoulder. “I can’t remember the last time something went according to plan. Can you?”

Silver scowled, but Flint could see the corners of his mouth quirk upwards.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Miranda come out on deck. She gave him a knowing look. Flint immediately felt uncomfortable. How did this look? Mere seconds after denying any involvement with Silver he goes over and chats with him, actually laughing for once in his life. It did not bode well with his case that Silver meant nothing to him.

Shaking his head, he quickly left Silver and went to find Degroot. There was always a need to talk about wind speed or whatnot, right?

 

_Peter Ash's home:_

 

Things hadn’t exactly gone to plan, but in the end they were in the presence of Peter Ash. It had been years since Flint had seen him and he had to admit the years had been more kind to Peter than they had been to him. Fact was though, as he looked Peter in the eye, he recognized himself more than he did the man before him. Peter was now a stranger, someone who went after pirates with a cold brusque mentality that left no room for mercy. No matter their past, they would still have to tread lightly. He almost wished Miranda was back on the ship like he had wanted her to be in the first place. He had to admit though, she gave him the strength he so desperately needed.

After telling Peter their story, and their hopes and plans, they retired to a spare bedroom while the night’s supper was being set up. The atmosphere in the room was somber and heavy. Neither quite knew what to think. Somehow the subject of Flint’s name was brought up and for the first time he admitted his fear of what he had become and how he wanted to return back to the man that bore the name James McGraw.

“James,” Miranda said. “When you take up the name James McGraw again and go into the interior, will anyone else be joining us?”

Flint paused, slowly processing his thoughts. He knew who she was talking about, and he knew that she wanted him to say yes, or at least that he would try. Thing was, he doubted Silver would even think of going with him even if he did ask. Silver wanted a way out, he wanted his riches than to disappear to who knows where. He most definitely did not want to hang around the person who, in his eyes, made his life far more complicated than it needed to be. He shook his head.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want someone like him intervening in our life any longer, and he would feel the same about me,” James replied.

Miranda looked down at her hands, lips pursed. “You can find happiness with him though. Thomas would have wanted that for you.”

“I can be happy with you.” James protested.

Miranda shook her head. “I may not have a romantic soulmate, but I understand what drives those who do have them to do the things they do, and I understand their needs. You need someone who you can hold close at night, that you can give yourself over to and let yourself go. I can’t provide that for you. I can be your anchor, your confident, your partner, but I can’t be your lover… and right now, through some miracle, your romantic soulmate is right now on that Spanish warship, waiting for you to return to him. You may both not see it yet, but you two need each other, and it would be such a waste for you to walk away from that.”

“Miranda, you don’t understand,” Flint said. “I love you, I need you, I only need you. I don’t want Silver. He is a selfish man who cares for nothing but himself and the best thing that I can do for him is to let him go.”

“And I love you too, but if you let him go, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. You won’t admit it now, but I can see it — you two are so entangled already with each other that separating yourselves will just create a gapping hole inside of you both. I am trying to save you from more pain.”

Flint looked away. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want to have been born with another name on his wrist, he didn’t want all that pain that came with that. He only wanted Thomas, and since he couldn’t have him anymore he would be perfectly content to live out the rest of his life with just Miranda. He needed her to see that.

He was about to respond, when there was a knock on the door, bidding them to come for dinner. This would be a discussion for another time.

 

_Peter Ash's home, dinner:_

 

Blood spattered across his face. In that same instant a red hot pain laced through his right wrist. First there was the shock. He stood, staring at her body, his only anchor in the world, the only person he could trust, dead. He distantly heard shouts around him, but he couldn’t understand what was being said.

_She was dead._

He was filled with rage, yet he was weak. The loss draining his body of what he needed, he could practically feel his already fragile soul being ripped to pieces. He ran forward to attack the man who had killed his Miranda, who had taken away the only person left in his life, but it was futile.

He fell to the ground and was met with her face, eyes blank and staring at nothing. He remembered how they used to sparkle with amusement when they were playing chess or practicing Spanish in the Hamilton’s parlour. How they were red and wet with tears when Thomas had been taken from them. How they flashed with anger when he did something stupid. Now they were empty. They should never have been empty.

The last thing he saw before he passed out was his right wrist. The name Miranda Barlow already grey and crossed out. A permanent reminder that he was alone.   

 

_Charlestown prison:_

 

He was cold… then he was hot. Screams filled the air, then a deathly silence followed in its wake. The room was spinning, around and around, going faster and faster till Flint felt like he was going to throw up. He just wanted it to stop, he just wanted the pain to go away.

Someone was in the room with him. He couldn’t make out who at first, the room was turning too fast, but slowly but surely things started to slow down. Finally, everything stopped moving, and Flint jolted forward, unbalanced. The person had their back to him, staring out of the prison window at the moon which shone brightly in the sky.

“Who are you?” Flint asked. There was a slight tremor in his voice, but he didn’t actually feel all that scared. He didn’t care what he looked like at the moment, he was going to die soon, so what did it matter?

“ _How soon you forget.”_ The voice rattled out. The words echoed off the walls over and over again, somehow, implausibly growing louder with each echo.

Flint frowned and stood up, taking a tentative step nearer. He didn’t want to know who this person was, but he couldn’t help, but feel himself be drawn closer.

The person started to move, turning around inch by inch. With bated breath, Flint waited to see who it was. The first thing Flint saw was the cheek, or what was left of the cheek. The skin was rotted away, leaving the underside of veins and flesh out in the open. The bones jutting out glaringly in the white light of the moon. Worse still, the teeth were bared for all the world to see, black and yellow with misuse… or was it just decay?

Then Flint saw the eyes. They were sunken in right to the skull, bloodshot and menacing with the dark pupils sucking in everything that dared look its way. There was just a hint of a blue ring around the edge indicating what colour they were supposed to be.

“T-Thomas?”

  _“You were supposed to protect her! You were supposed to keep her safe!”_

He had to be dreaming, Thomas couldn’t actually be here with him, it was impossible. Thomas took a step closer taking deep breaths that rattled against his bones.

_“You killed her.”_

James shook his head; he couldn’t let his mind get to him like that. Peter Ash’s men killed Miranda, not him. “Thomas please. I didn’t…”

_“LIES! YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME! YOU SAID YOU CARED FOR ME!”_

Flint felt like vomiting. Nothing made sense anymore and it all felt so real. Could Thomas really be there? “I’m sorry… I’m sorry Thomas, please…”

Thomas held out his wrists. Dark slashes crossed them where the soulmates names were supposed to go. _“This is what you did to me. This is what you made me do.”_ Flint felt his mind go blank, staring at those scars made it real. It made his failure all so much more apparent in the cold night air.

Thomas took shuddering steps closer and leaned in close. _“Do you know what I thought when I killed myself? What was going through my head?”_ Thomas paused and leered down at Flint, who shook his head, feeling ill. Thomas smirked sardonically. _“I thought to myself. Well I’m glad that Flint is taking care of Miranda even if he doesn’t care for me. At least he is looking out for her. DO YOU CALL THIS TAKING CARE OF HER? SHE WAS OUR SOULMATE AND YOU LET HER DIE!”_

“I… I… no…” Flint tried to say, stumbling backwards.

“ _YOU KILLED HER. YOU KILLED HER. YOU KILLED HER!”_ Thomas screeched over and over again. The words echoed around the cell until the whole room was screaming those words at Flint from every direction.

“No!” Flint cried out, putting his hands over his ears, continuing to stumble backwards. His foot hit a loose nail and he slipped, falling down.

Silence.

Flint looked up in confusion. Thomas was gone, the echoing words had stopped, there was no one else in his cell. Flint closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall, taking deep heaving breaths. Instead of helping, though, it just brought the pain back, and that was when the tears started. Thomas was right, it was his fault… everything was his fault. Thomas… Miranda… all those poor innocent souls that Flint had cut down without a second thought. All dead because of him. Broken sob after broken sob left Flint’s body into the long hours of the night until finally, he collapsed into a painful darkness that brought no comfort to his body or soul.

 

_Charlestown trial:_

 

The next morning, he was brought before a crowd, set to be hanged. He no longer cared, he would accept his fate and be the monster they so wanted him to be. It hurt still that he was considered the evil creature when they were the ones who so horribly masqueraded Miranda’s body around the square like that. She deserved so much better than what these vile animals were doing to her and it made his failure towards her all the more painful. The pain of seeing her like that fueled his anger and made him defiant, he would not go lightly out of this world. This would be the end of Captain James Flint and he would welcome death’s embrace with open arms, but he would not go quietly. People will be talking about him for years, echoing his name amongst each other in the nights. He will come back as a ghost and haunt them all, drive them to terror. He would not be forgotten.

Then Vane came into the scene and things took a right turn.

+

“Pirate Captain James Flint, formerly known as James McGraw…”

Flint felt eyes bore into the side of his head and he turned to see Vane looking at him with his eyebrows raised. “James McGraw? You’ve been keeping something from me haven’t you?”

Flint gave a small smile and shrugged his shoulders. “Guess it never came up?”

Vane smirked. “I’m sure it didn’t. Well, nice to meet you James McGraw, now I’m definitely glad that I came out to save your sorry ass.”

Flint rolled his eyes. “If you think that giving them a child’s diary will sway their mind, you have a lot coming for you.”

Vane chuckled. “Hardly, but how else could I guarantee everyone’s attention?”

Flint smirked in return. He had to give Vane credit, he certainly was smarter than would appear. Vane stood up and the everything was set in motion. As the first bomb rang out through the air Flint couldn’t help but feel immensely satisfied with the wreckage it caused. This place deserved to burn to the ground, including the blasted people in it.

They managed to free themselves and retrieve a pair of swords for them to use. Flint immediately went after Lord Ash while Vane took care of some of the other Lords of the place. As he stared at Peter Ash laying there on the ground he couldn’t help but feel the despair start to creep in. Thoughts of whether or not it was worth it to continue living washed over his mind. There were no real enemies now that he could actually kill. All those who had actually hurt him in the past were dead, who was he fighting now? Just a symbol of his hatred.

Vane came up to him and looked between Flint and Ash, then turned and looked at Miranda, who was still so horrifically displayed. “Was she your romantic soulmate?”

Flint held out his right wrist, letting someone else see it for the first time in ten years. Vane looked down at the crossed out name in surprise. “Then do you have a romantic one?”

Flint paused. This really wasn’t the time to be doing this. Vane should be heading back to the ship and Flint should be… well he didn’t know what he should be doing. He had half the mind to just stay here and let himself be hit by a stray cannon or buried under falling debris. Looking at Vane, he realized that the other man wasn’t going to go anywhere without him. Closing his eyes, he held out his left wrist, hoping that would persuade Vane to just leave.

Vane grabbed the wrist and brought it closer to his face as if he couldn’t read it, which made no sense. He saw his right wrist just fine. He then tapped on the burn mark causing Flint to yank back his arm startled. “Who’s the other one?” Vane practically growled.

Flint shook his head, eyes going wide and heart beating frantically in his chest.

Vane leaped forward and grabbed Flint by the collar of his shirt. “Listen here. I know that you still harbour some hatred for me, and I you, but I do not want to just lose one of my soulmates, especially after having basically already lost one. I understand why it would be easier to just stay here, but if there is some hope that I can get you to fight your way out of here than I will take it. What was the name on the burned mark?”

Everything was a loud mess, with people screaming and bombs blazing. Nothing made sense anymore and Flint knew that there wasn’t much time before it would be too late for either of them.

“John Silver.” Flint said, against his better judgement.

Vane’s eyebrows rose in surprise, but he quickly got himself under control. “And why doesn’t he deserve the same love that you have given those two other people? Why can’t he provide you that love that you need? You can still have a life with him. Don’t throw that away.”

Flint closed his eyes and took a deep shuddering breath, trying to get his emotions and thoughts under control. He looked deep down inside of himself and realized that Vane was right. He still had something worth fighting for. He didn’t want to die, not today, not now when for once the pirates had the upper hand. They had the chance to really show England who they should fear. That was not something that Flint should just throw away.

Opening up his eyes, he looked Vane in the eye and nodded. “Thank you.”

Vane smirked and backed away. “Don’t thank me just yet.” He retorted, already dashing off down the street. Flint picked up a gun from the ground and hurried after him, blood racing through his veins. They had work to do.

 

_The Warship, after destroying Charlestown:_

 

Once he had witnessed Charlestown be destroyed adequately enough he turned around to assess his crew. Frowning, he searched for the familiar brown curly hair, but John Silver was no where to be found. Spotting Billy in a deep conversation with Degroot he strode over to him, irritation already thrumming through his veins. “Where is Silver.” Flint barked, interrupting them.

Both Billy and Degroot looked up with unease; immediate dread filled Flint’s chest and Flint found it hard to breath.

“Something… happened.” Billy said slowly, he seemed unsure how to put the words together.

“What?” Demanded Flint sharply. The cruel thing was he couldn’t even check his wrist to see if Silver was alive or not anymore. For the first time in his life he regretted the decision to get rid of his mark.

“It’s better if I just show you.” Billy said gesturing for Flint to follow.

Flint followed after Billy with heavy steps. Did he really want to see what lay ahead? The fact that he was being led somewhere was a good thing Flint reasoned, that meant that he was still alive. Then again, Silver could be on his death bed for all he knew, currently in the process of taking his last breaths.

They entered the self-named doctor’s quarters and Flint stopped short. There on the table lay Silver, face shining with sweat and a pained grimace gracing his features, even in his sleep. He looked sickly and horrible and it made Flint want to punch whoever had made him feel that way. That wasn’t the worst part though. No, the worst part was the gap where a leg should have been.

Flint took a shaky step forward, not able to comprehend what he was seeing. “What the _fuck_ happened?” Flint asked, his voice going up at the end due to the tension straining on his body.

Howell awkwardly wiped his hands on a cloth and stepped towards Silver’s body on the opposite side of the table. “Vane’s quartermaster decided to take over the ship and in doing so, thought it would be good to torture Silver here. He used a blunt axe to hack at Silver’s leg, by the time I got to Silver the damage was too severe. I had to take off the rest of it or he would have died.”

Flint felt spots starting to appear at the edge of his vision, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to focus. “And where is… this man.” Flint said, low and dangerous.

“I killed him.” Billy said. He was still standing by the door, apprehension lining his features. Flint supposed he should be grateful that the vile creature was dead, but that meant that he couldn’t kill him himself. He couldn’t crush his bones and make him bleed from a thousand different places for hurting that which he held dear. Oh what fun he would have had with the man, making him scream to all the gods that existed, for mercy, of which Flint would deny with relish.

Outwardly, Flint nodded his head and reached out to brush a stray curl away from Silver’s face. Silver moaned at the touch and Flint quickly withdrew his hand, worried that the simple act had caused him harm.

“He should be out for a couple of days.” Dr. Howell said. “I would advise to leave him uninterrupted for the time being.”

“Take him to my cabin.” Flint said, still staring down at Silver.

“What?” said Billy.

“There will be less chance of him getting bothered by the rest of the crew in there, and he likes…” Flint couldn’t bring himself to finish the rest of the sentence. Instead he looked between Billy and Dr. Howell, making sure they knew he was not to be argued with. “Do it.”

With that he left the room, quickly walking to his cabin. He would have liked to be the one to take Silver there himself, but he knew it would not look well with the crew if he showed such favouritism.

He sat down at his desk and pretended to go over his maps as he waited for Silver to be brought in. A couple of minutes later Joji and Billy brought in Silver, carried on a board. They looked around the room hesitantly, not sure what to do in such a situation. Flint gestured to the seat by the window. “Put him over there.”

Silently they placed him on the seat and quickly left the room, leaving a stifling silence in their wake. Flint stared hard at the maps, not seeing the words and marks that littered the paper. There was a ringing sound in his ear that came from no source but the one inside his head.

_You were supposed to protect her._

Flint pushed his chair back with a start, breathing heavily. He leaned over his desk taking deep breaths and willing his pulse to drop back to lower levels. They had just destroyed Charlestown, they were at sea, this was not the time to fall to pieces.

He looked over at Silver, who was still lost to the world. A need filled inside of him. He couldn’t exactly say what that need was, but he knew that Silver was the key to whatever it was. He walked softly over to him and carefully danced his fingers over Silver’s forehead. Sweat was beading there and his eyebrows were drawn together in a frown. Flint reached for a cloth and dabbed away at the skin, while the sweat was easily washed away, the frown remained.

Flint trailed his eyes down to Silver’s left wrist. Hesitantly, he reached over and lifted up the arm, turning the wrist to face him. There, written plain as day, were the words _James McGraw._ He brushed his thumb over the words. Such a simple thing that weaved so many consequences and so much turmoil in both of their lives.

He knew that Silver didn’t want a soulmate, and so Flint would respect that wish. That didn’t mean, however, that they could not be friends. After all, it was Silver who was the one that suggested that they needed to work together. Flint needed Silver more than ever now, he just hoped that it wasn’t too late for that.

 

_The Warship, on way back to Nassau:_

 

He knew now that he was cursed to the very ends of his existence. To think that after all the shit that he had went through, all the hurt and suffering, he would at least have this one silver lining. But no. Where he thought he could potentially form a partnership of sorts with Silver, especially after the crew had voted him as quartermaster, had turned back into a reminder why he should have never brought Silver into his confidence anyways.

_See, she died for nothing. We both died for nothing. You thought you could replace us. Did we mean so little to you?_

Flint clenched his jaw, the sun must be getting to him. Flint was going to need all of his tactical mindset ready for when he was to confront Jack and his damn crew. To think that a measly fucker like Jack, who probably hadn’t ever killed anybody, was actually the one who was stealing his gold? All because of fucking Silver and his lying ass.

_This was all your fault. Stop blaming others. It’s always your fault._

He had wanted to rage against Silver, to force him to admit that it was him who had betrayed Flint, but what would that do? In the end, perhaps Thomas was right, perhaps this was all his fault and he didn’t see the warning signs. Didn’t see that his actions were alienating everyone, especially those who were closest to him, and because of that… well because of that, he was alone. He was so alone.

 

_Nassau:_

 

Vane and Flint sat around the table after everyone else had gone, drinking warm rum in silence. Vane lifted up the bottle and smirked before taking a swing and putting it down with a thud. “I don’t think I’m what you need to get through this.”

Flint looked up at Vane with a raised eyebrow, but remained silent. Vane shook his head. “We could have been so good together, manning our ships side by side… to think, we could have done that when going after the Urca if the damned bitch hadn’t intervened... Still, though, it might have been too late.”

Flint looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry about that. About your situation with Eleanor.”

Vane laughed. “Was my fault more often than not. Still, though, glad she’s gone. Glad she gave me the freedom to let go of her”

“You killed her father.”

“Yeah, but he was a dishonest roach who didn’t give a damn about her, so really, I did her a favour.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“I will.”

Flint shook his head, a smile threatening to lift at the corner’s of his mouth.

_This doesn’t feel like living anymore._

Flint flinched, Miranda’s voice echoing out in his brain as if reminding him that he didn’t deserve to be happy. At least Thomas’ voice had finally stopped, but Flint found that Miranda’s voice was worse in a way. Her softer tone was ironically a sharper stab into his heart every time he heard it.

Vane, noticing his reaction, leaned forward. “Why haven’t you talked to Silver yet?”

Flint shook his head. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, bring himself to let himself get closer to that man again. He had done it once before, but that wasn’t possible now. Hell, they were surrounded by the reason of that impossibility as they spoke. Mountains upon mountains of gold. All obtained behind his back.

Vane seemed disappointed for whatever reason. “Like I said, I can’t help you. Not like this. Each person’s soulmates serve a different part of them. A need for friendship, romance, understanding, a common ideology. Whatever it may be, they all form together to make that person tick. It’s sad to say, but I would have been perfect for you when you first came to Nassau if things had not gone so… differently. Right now though? You are in too much pain over something I can’t even begin to understand, but I think I know who might.”

Flint stood up. He was not in the mood for such talks. “Thank you, for what you did in Charlestown.”

Vane looked away, clenching his jaw. This was not how he wanted the conversation to end, but Flint didn’t care at the moment. Vane right now had everything he could have ever wanted, with the exception of Eleanor. Nassau was under their control, they had all the gold they could ever need, and he was free. For a man like Vane, that was heaven.

Flint on the other hand, was so lost. So lost and confused and tired. Each day felt like a meandering path that led to nowhere but to pain and sorrow. He wanted it to stop. Wanted it to end, but it would not. Everyday, every night, he would hear their voices, screaming at him in his ear. Telling him how he failed them. What was worse was that those voices were the only thing keeping him grounded, and that was just a disaster waiting to happen.     


	6. Finding Love Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to end it here because I kind of lost steam and desire to write this, but leaving an unended fic kind of gives me anxiety so I wanted to at least finish it off in some way. I had a ending in mind that would have followed in line with Treasure Island cannon, but it would have been sad and I kind of didn't want to write something too depressing at the moment.
> 
> Also when I originally came up with this idea it was supposed to only be like 10,000 words, so this definitely got away from me. I may pick this up somewhere down the line and write an actual ending for it, but for now I think this is an okay place to leave it off. Hopefully you all are okay with that!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who gave kudos and commented :)

The locks fell to the floor, becoming a red mass of slithering snakes on the ground. They seemed to hiss and spit at each other, but that was probably just the light. He hadn’t been getting much sleep lately. The voices kept waking him up, the memories, the images. He wanted it all to stop.

He stepped out onto the deck; eyes followed him, but he ignored them. One pair, though, seemed to linger long after the others had turned back to their duties. He attempted to ignore it at first, but it didn’t go away. Irritably, he turned around, eyes quickly roaming for the source. His eyes landed on Silver, who was staring at him, confusion evident in his features. He looked lost, like someone had stolen something from him, but he wasn’t sure yet what had been stolen. Flint could relate.

Silver realized that Flint was staring at him and quickly turned around, pretending to busy himself with a piece of rope. Flint knew better, but couldn’t bring himself to be bothered by it. He was just a member of his crew now, no one of importance really. He turned back out to the sea, already envisioning their next raid.

+

For someone who was supposed to be an insignificant crew member, they were sure trying to get under his skin. He cursed the day the crew decided to vote Silver as quartermaster, giving him almost free reign to enter the captain’s cabin whenever he so chose to. Flint needed his privacy, especially from Silver.

Some of his nightmares had, inexplicably enough, involved the younger man. Usually it was him taunting Flint in some way, but from time to time he saw Silver get hurt, get tortured, and Flint could only watch in despair as he suffered. Some nights, Flint would wake up gasping Silver’s name, so it was no wonder he didn’t want Silver traipsing in and out of the room like he owned the place. Flint didn’t know how he would explain why he was calling out for him in his sleep. It was why he was always on guard for the sound of metal against wood. Though it led to restless nights, it at least gave Flint the comfort of not having Silver catch him off guard. Good thing too, since Silver, annoyingly enough, tried to creep in on him having a little nap. He knew not what he was trying to do, but whatever it was, Flint was having none of it.

+

He knew Silver would believe that the only reason he had chosen him to have full rations was to show his power over him. That couldn’t have been further from the truth. The reality was, he needed Silver alive, if only to hold on to what remained of his tattered sanity. As long as Silver was still around he could continue to fuel is hatred and despair without totally running asunder. He pretended to be sane, pretended to be alright in front of him in order to keep the ship afloat. He knew he was slipping through the cracks at times, but as long as the others, like Billy, remained oblivious to his predicament, everything would be alright and Silver would not have founding evidence to show that his concerns were legitimate. It was a rocky balance at best.

He was also terrified of seeing another grey name on his wrist. It didn’t matter that he did not view Silver as some one he cared for in any way, the thought of having him taken away from him would surely drive him over the edge. Despite his repulsion for the man, he knew that he would be destroyed if Silver was gone. That was why he attempted to make Silver have his full rations. He hoped that Silver would eat them, though, he knew how stubborn Silver was when he put his mind to it, and more likely than not, Silver would give the food away.

Still, he would do his best to protect him, even if he couldn’t bear to bring himself to actually trust the other man. That was why he killed the two thieves, not because they both deserved to be killed, or because it got rid of two mouths, but because that situation had the chance of getting out of control. No sweet talking or soft words were going to get one of the men to confess and Silver was not one to go to torture or killing. He was still fresh and innocent, in a way, to the world of pirates and Flint could not bear to see him become a monster like he himself was. So he took control.

“If you’re not strong enough to do what needs to be done, I’ll do that for you.”

True, his words could be taken as a threat, but they weren’t. They were a promise, a support system. A way out for Silver — to show him that he would be there for him in this way when he couldn’t be in any other way. In just this way, he could help his soulmate bear the weight upon his shoulders and carry it as far as was needed.

+

He wanted to leave with Miranda, to sail away into death’s embrace with her. She didn’t want him to though, for some reason, she believed that he still had living left to do. He couldn’t see what that was for all he felt in those waking moments was loneliness. Painful loneliness that threatened to consume him with every damn breath he took. It hurt more than he wanted to admit.

+

“I stole it from you.”

“What?” Flint asked, currently engrossed in just rowing the damn boat out to the whale, knowing that this was going to be a waste of time.

“The Urca gold.”

Upon the utterance of those three words Flint had to stop rowing. Everything that he had built up in his head, every reason to blame Silver, to avoid him, came crashing down. It wasn’t a surprise — he had known that Silver was the one to take it, but for him to admit it? To stand up to him and admit that it was all his doing?

The barriers that he had built up in his mind were falling down. The cracks were opening up again, almost against his will. He felt like he could finally trust Silver, which was an odd thought in and of itself. But the thing was, Silver had admitted what he had done on his own accord. Flint hadn’t confronted him about him, he hadn’t piled up evidence against him, he had let it go. Had let Silver off free without any consequence, yet here he was, in Silver’s mind, putting himself in danger.

Why though? Why would he put himself at risk, especially where no one could help him? They were at open sea and Flint, by all accounts, was stronger than him. If he so chose to, he would be able to end Silver’s life without much struggle. He didn’t want to though, and that may be part of it. Silver desperately wanted Flint to see him as an equal. To be partners instead of rivals. Silver was making that offering in the hope that the chance could be opened. It was a bold move, but it was one that, perhaps, Flint was able to take.

+

As he walked to Silver across the beach Flint couldn’t help but realize that a warmth was growing inside of him. Since they had caught the shark together Flint couldn’t help but come to realize everything Silver had done for him and for the crew. If it weren’t for Silver, they would probably all be dead by this point. It wasn’t just that though. Whenever he laid eyes on Silver he couldn’t help but feel a giddy fondness for the man. He knew it was dangerous, but he could at least follow through on the vow he had made after Charlestown that he had thrown away after learning of Silver’s treachery. The vow that he would be there for Silver and be his friend until Flint met his own end. He knew it was a perilous vow to go forth on, but if he died saving Silver’s life, well then, it would be worth it wouldn’t it?

He sat down to talk to Silver and, was once again, amazed at the perceptiveness of him. To have gleamed all that about the pardons and Whitehall was incredible. “You’ve been keeping this all to yourself?”

“Well you and I haven’t been on the best of terms lately.”

“No, I suppose not.” It felt like a punch to the stomach. After the shark hunt it was like Flint had woken up. It was like he had been living in a dream-like state for the past couple of months, not really noticing what was going on around him. Now as he reviewed his actions he realized that his behaviour had been unacceptable. He could tell he had hurt Silver and that pained him. He vowed to be better from now on.

+

It looked like his vow to protect Silver had developed a hitch. A big one.

Here they were, trapped in this Maroon camp with no where to escape to and the one other prisoner in the place was telling them how hopeless this all was. Though, it was funny to note that the man’s name was Ben Gunn. Flint recalled seeing that name be written across Billy’s right wrist. Billy made no indication as to who that person was to him, but he could see the way Billy’s eyes always strayed back to the man, wanting to learn more, but being afraid to delve deeper. Especially with what was at stake.

Flint also noticed that Silver’s eyes seemed to keep trailing back to one of the Maroon citizens. It was unlike him to take notice so devotedly towards one specific person. Usually being able to figure out a person with a few glances and going from there. The only time Flint could recall Silver spending this much thought on another person was with Flint. Flint didn’t like this new development. 

+

He woke up to find Silver being dragged out of the cage. His immediate reaction was a paralyzing terror to well up inside of him. The Maroons seemed to have stopped torturing, but perhaps they wanted to test the quartermaster’s story again. Put him through who knows what torture to ensure that what he had said was true. After all, they could have summarized that the crew were just that loyal and needed to find the source. Flint longed to call out to them to take him instead. Not Silver. The thought of him getting hurt even further made him feel ill.

Hours later, though actually it was more like fifteen minutes, Silver was brought back to the cage. The sense of relief that washed over Flint nearly staggered him. He had to close his eyes for a brief moment to collect his bearings. He knew for a fact that he would not survive losing his other romantic soulmate. He wondered if the grey mark would still appear on his burned skin. Probably not, but still, he didn’t want that to be tested, ever.

Losing Thomas had been this torrential downpour of pain and anger. To this day he still felt the effects of it, as he should. Losing Miranda had been intolerable. He could still feel her presence sometimes urging him to do something, though he couldn’t say what. The bond he had created with her had been torn out so suddenly that Flint knew he would never heal from it. Losing Silver would be something different. He couldn’t say exactly what effect it would have on him, but it would be terrible nonetheless.

“Where are you?”

Flint scrambled to get back to the present, trying to piece together what Silver had been talking about. Something to do with the daughter and escaping, but Flint wouldn’t be able to say what that entailed. Instead he went down a different path. One of revealing truths that Flint had never thought he would ever reveal, especially not to Silver. He told him about the pardons.

+

As he sat down beside Mr. Scott he couldn’t help the flash of irritation that crept through him. It had to be Mr. Scott who was the king figure of this Maroon camp, which meant Madi Scott was his daughter. Madi Scott, the one and only, who was Silver’s soulmate. No wonder he had been paying special attention towards her.

Perhaps it was this jealousy that drove him to move forwards in his plan, perhaps it was his petty resentment of the thought of Silver being able to find happiness with someone else and forgetting about him. Then again, there was no guarantee that these Maroon people would hold any thought to soulmates. They had probably lost many of them due to the cruelness of white folk. To have a white man be a soulmate to the reigning family would probably not be something that was going to be accepted.

Besides, he had vowed to keep Silver safe, and sacrificing himself for this task would be the ultimate way of ensuring Silver’s survival. So he stole the knife.

+

“Yet for some reason I am bothered by it…”

The soft tones of Silver’s voice crept into his mind and planted themselves there, refusing to let go. They not only laid bare what Silver was thinking, but also showed Flint what he himself was thinking. It was like he was suddenly an open book, free for anybody to read… no that wasn’t right. He was an open book to Silver, but only because the man had studied him so thoroughly. Read and re-read each page over and over again, memorising what each facial expression meant, what each mood brought, until it was clear to him, but only him. It resonated something inside of him.

They stayed sitting in silence for several moments. Flint could feel his heart start to thrum back to life. Slowly stuttering back to steady beats where it once was barely able to keep itself moving. Yes, he could do it. He could get them out of here, get the Maroon people to agree to his plans. There was always a way.

“Miranda was your soulmate, was she not? Do you think that she would have wanted you to just give up, to just take what you were given?” Silver suddenly asked, breaking the silence. Behind those words lay a thinly veiled curiosity. Silver was asking more for his own purposes than any want to convince him to back off from his plan.

Flint looked down at his hands. It felt right to tell the truth. It felt like it was time.

Slowly he pulled up the sleeve of his right arm and held it out to Silver. Silver looked up at Flint’s eyes in confusion, as if asking for permission to look. How much more permission could he give? He nodded his head, though, and Silver looked down again, carefully taking the wrist in his hands and bringing it towards him.

Flint could feel his pulse start to beat faster, though he couldn’t really understand why. It wasn’t like he was showing his left wrist. Not that it that would shed much light on anything. Just another mystery to be added to the case.

“She was platonic?” Silver said in surprise. Flint couldn’t blame in. Why should he have gotten so upset over a platonic relationship? They didn’t hold much weight in people’s eyes.

“She was my life partner for many years. That is all that matters.”

Silver frowned, thinking things through. There were too many pieces missing in the puzzle for Silver to guess the truth. Flint would leave it like that for now. Maybe one day he would tell the whole truth, but he couldn’t now, not yet.

Flint made to pull his hand back, but Silver stopped him. He traced a finger over the other name. “Charles Vane.”

Flint smirked at the jealous tone that Silver couldn’t keep from his voice. If only Silver knew.

“Trust me, I was none to thrilled when I found out who he was. However, ever since Charlestown we have come to an understanding.”

“Oh,” was all Silver replied. He dropped the wrist and shifted away a little bit. Flint immediately missed the warmth. For a second he almost wanted to admit the truth. When he opened his mouth, though, he found the words couldn’t come out. They were stuck at the back of his throat, having been lodged there far too long to come to the surface. Perhaps it was for the best. At least this way Silver wouldn’t be tied down to him. He didn’t deserve a monster.

Silver got up and moved away, probably to try and make sense of his emotions. He would have trouble figuring them out. John Silver was not someone who knew what love was.

+

To say Flint was surprised that his speech had worked was an understatement. By all accounts him and the rest of his crew should be dead by now. Instead he was given his jacket back and the others were let out of his cage. He felt Silver’s eyes on him. Keeping his face blank, he slowed down his movements, drawing out the motions of putting on the coat he knew Silver had a fancy for. He could be a bit of a tease at times, but then Silver was a little shit, so fair was fair, right?

“I’m going to admit something to you, and please don’t take this the wrong way, but I didn’t think there was a chance in hell that was actually going to work.”

“Me neither,” Flint said, before pausing and looking over Silver contemplatively, “thank you, for opening that door.” Flint looked deeply into Silver’s eyes, hopping that his gratitude would be able to traverse to him. That what Silver had done for him meant more to him then what appeared on the surface.

“So, what happens now?”

“Now, we marshal whatever resources we can. As many ships as we can muster and allies to sail. Men resolved to defy the pardon and ready to join a war. Now we go find Charles Vane.”

Silver nodded his head, but the light seemed to fade from his eyes a little bit. He was obviously recalling the name on Flint’s right wrist. Probably wishing his name was there instead.

“Well that is what you will be doing.” Silver said.

What?

Silver gave a tight smile. “You can’t just leave without creating a base to stand on after what you have done here. A strong relationship has to be forged with these people. I think I am the best person to do that – being your right hand man and all.”

Flint stared hard at Silver. He had that nonchalant expression back on his face, all business once again. Flint knew the underlying reason as to why he was staying. Though he wouldn’t admit it to himself, Silver did not want to see Flint and Vane interact. It stirred up something in him that made him terrified. Flint could sadly emphasize, even if he didn’t like the thought of leaving Silver behind. At least he would be in good hands — Silver’s platonic soulmate was on the island after all. The daughter to the Queen nonetheless, and wasn’t that a sense of irony that they were heading away from where their hearts wanted, but going towards another integral part of themselves at the same time. Jealousy could go both ways it seemed.

In the end, though, having Silver stay behind made the most tactical sense, even if Flint’s heart squeezed painfully at the thought.

As the ship pulled away from the island, Flint couldn’t help but look back and watch Silver, standing there on the beach. Feeling like he was leaving behind something far too important to be left behind. It hurt more than it should have.

+

He could understand why Vane was angry, resentful even. The men he had sworn to protect obviously did not think the same way, and all it took was a bit of money to sway them. Vane didn’t understand how money could be such a motivator, for him freedom was the only way. Flint understood that motivation, even if he looked down upon it. The difference was, he would have stopped matters from even getting to a point where a bribery was up for offer.

Nonetheless, here he was, getting ready to face down Teach, knowing full well that there was not a chance in hell that he would get out of this alive. From the looks of things, Billy thought so too and was quite pleased with how things were turning out.

He managed to seem unconcerned in front of Vane when the man voiced his concerns, but it was all fake. In all likelihood, this was going to be his end. Vane still had some loyalty running through his veins towards Flint though. Being soulmates tended to do that, and Flint was going to use that to his advantage.

“I don’t care. I don’t care that you shook my hand. I don’t care what you feel you owe him. This is too important to be clouded by any of that. They took my home; I can’t walk away from that. Can you?” Flint watched Vane closely, watching how his words hit home with Vane. “Forget me, forget Teach, forget loyalty, honor, contracts, debts, all of it. The only question that matters is this, who are you?”

He left before Vane could answer, but he knew that his words would be echoing in Vane’s mind throughout the fight, and if Flint ended up dying at Teach’s hand, Vane would forever be haunted by what he had just said. He hoped it would be enough.

As he walked across the sand he had to admit he was actually glad that Silver was not here with him. Silver would have had a heart attack if he knew what Flint was doing right now and he would have probably caused all sorts of trouble ensuring that Flint would not get in this fight. In the end, though, this was the only way. Or at least that was what Flint told himself. There was no backing out now.

+

As they made their way back to the Maroon Camp, Vane came into Flint’s cabin and leaned his hands on the desk. “What have you done with Silver?”

Flint looked up from his map, tempted to roll his eyes. It was obvious that Vane thought Flint had actually done something to harm his quartermaster. Such a thought repelled him to his very core. He could never hurt Silver now. “He is back at the Maroon camp that I told you about. He thought it best that he stay behind to form a better alliance between all of us.”

Vane nodded his head, but he still looked suspicious. “Did you tell him to stay-”

“He volunteered,” Flint interjected, “and before you get any ideas, we’re doing much better now. We talked things through and have come to an understanding.”

“So he knows?”

Flint clenched his jaw and looked down at his map again. That was all Vane needed to form the correct conclusion. “For fuck sakes Flint! What on earth did you talk about? Daisies? Did you even resolve anything, or are you just bullshitting me?”

“Yes, we resolved our issues. I just haven’t told him… that because it doesn’t concern him.” Even to his own ears it was a feeble excuse, but Vane couldn’t understand. He was terrified of admitting the truth to Silver, not knowing what would happen to their fragile relationship. It was already on tenterhooks, and if Silver knew? Who knows what he would do. All Flint knew was that he needed Silver in his life right now and telling Silver could upset that.

“You’re an idiot, you know that right? You can’t keep pushing him away or you’ll lose him for good. Look.” Vane held out his left wrist. Flint’s eyes rose in surprise at what he saw there — the name Eleanor Guthrie was a mouldy green colour, not looking healthy in the slightest. What was most surprising was that Eleanor wasn’t dead like she was supposed to be. “What the fuck?”

Vane smirked self-deprecatingly. “She’s working with Woodes Rodgers.”

Flint swore. Out of all the people Flint had considered an ally at Nassau, Eleanor, for the most part, could always be counted on. Now to find out that she was on the side of civilization? It was bullshit.

Vane nodded in understanding, but continued on. “That isn’t the point though, the point is, I let our relationship get to this point. I hurt Eleanor and she hurt me in return till the point that there is no going back. Don’t let that happen with you and Silver.”

Flint looked away, not convinced. While what happened to Vane was tragic in a way, it couldn’t be the same. Eleanor didn’t even have Vane as a soulmate. What happened to Vane was probably a result of that. Besides, Flint was doing what was best for Silver. “His platonic soulmate is the daughter of the Maroon Queen. He has her now.”

Vane snorted. “If you think that’s going to keep him satisfied, you have a lot coming for you. I’ve watched him watch you during our little meetings in Nassau. You’re his fucking world and no princess is going to change that.”

Flint breathed sharply through his nose. He had had enough of this conversation. He strode to the door and held it open. “I have to calculate coordinates, that needs my full attention right now.”

Vane rolled his eyes, but thankfully left the room without another word. Flint sat down heavily at his desk, putting his head in his hands. Despite what Vane said, he couldn’t do that to Silver. Silver didn’t want a romantic soulmate and so he was going to respect those wishes. Having Silver was just another unattainable dream.

+

It was harder than he would like to admit to have Madi aboard his ship. In any other circumstance he would have been glad to have such a strong-willed, able woman on board who could control her men with such ease. The knowledge of what she could mean to Silver though, constantly grated on his nerves. He had to force himself to push it all way though. There was no time for petty thoughts when they had so much work to do.

It seemed that though Silver knew what Madi meant to him, and Madi in return knew what Silver was in relation to her, they did not do much. Silver did seem slightly protective of her and Madi did seem interested in Silver in a way, but they acted respectable around each other, nothing more. For that Flint had to guiltily admit, he was grateful. He could only hope that nothing would happen between them when he was around. He doubted he could handle that.

What did hurt Flint was the fact that Silver viewed himself as a creature. Flint had known that Silver felt weak and useless ever since the loss of his leg, but he hadn’t realized to what extent. He wished he could take Silver aside and dissuade him of such notions. To be able to pull him in his arms, hold him tight, and tell him that he knew of no stronger man than him. But he couldn’t, and he knew Silver would not appreciate the gesture, so he held himself back. Agreed to let Silver go to the island, even when all of his senses were screaming at him that this was a bad idea. That he should be protecting the man, not furthering his destructive self-image. In the end, though, what choice did he have?

+

Upon hearing what happened during the night’s events, worry churned at the pit of his stomach. He knew something must have gone horribly wrong, yet horribly right at the same time for the crew to be all in a dither about it. No doubt the story would be skewed and twisted until it was twelve men, not just one, that Silver had killed. That he had gorged out their eyeballs and eaten their flesh. It would be just the start.

Hesitantly, he entered the room where Silver was, inquiring how he was feeling. As Silver talked, Flint realized with growing dread, that Silver was heading down the same dark path that Flint had long since fallen into. It was a path that Flint would never wish on anyone, yet by some cruel fate, the person he cared for the most. The person he wished to protect more than anything, was falling just as fast. Worse yet, Silver was just starting to get a taste of it, and the first taste was always the best. It was addictive and compelling, and would pull lesser men in without a second thought. He could only hope that Silver would be strong enough to temper it, to gain control.

Then, unexpectedly, the tone of the conversation changed. Silver pulled back his sleeve, looking down at the name written like ink on his skin. James McGraw. The sight of it never failed to make Flint’s heart beat faster. He wondered where Silver was going with this.

“I’ve never met him,” Silver said, staring down at the words. Flint's pulse started beating in his ears, undeniably frightened at the direction the conversation was going. “I used to lie in bed late at night, wondering what he would be like. Would he be funny? Strong? Nice? As I grew older I came to resent the fact that I had a name on my left wrist. Why should I be tied down to someone? I was fine on my own. I didn’t need to rely on anyone…” Silver trailed off, lost in thought.

“And now?” Flint asked, throat dry and heart beating fast in his chest.

Silver looked up, staring hard into Flint’s eyes. “Now? I still don’t care for him,” Silver said with a shrug. Upon those words, Flint’s heart sank. Silver kept talking though. “But for an entirely different reason.”

Flint frowned, but didn’t speak, letting Silver explain himself.

“I don’t want to be tied down to this man that I have never met. That I don’t know anything about and don’t care for. I have been struggling with these… thoughts in my head. These feelings in my heart.” Silver spat out the words as if they were poison. “I didn’t understand them at first. They were foreign to me and I didn’t like them. They clouded my reason, tested my judgement… I understand them now, though, oh how I understand, and I would be lying if I said it didn’t terrify me.”

Almost without thought, Flint reached out and gripped Silver’s wrists. “What do you understand?”

“I can’t be tied to James McGraw… because I am tied to you.”

He sounded so broken and lost. It broke Flint’s heart. He had done this to him. He had let his soulmate get to this point, get to this point where he was willing to throw everything away for a man he thought to be ruined. How could that be possible? Flint didn’t deserve such devotion… such love.

A tear ran down Silver’s cheek and by reflex Flint reached out and wiped it away. Relishing in the feel of his soft skin beneath his thumb. He looked into Silver’s eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes were filled with such terror and love that Flint felt like he was drowning.

As if in a trance, he laced their hands together, feeling the way Silver’s were shaking. He brought one of the laced hands up to his mouth and kissed it. Showing his love and devotion to this man in the only way he knew how.

Silver let out a chocked sob, tears running more freely down his cheeks. That wouldn’t do. Flint carefully disentangled one of his hands and brought it up to Silver’s cheek. Gently, oh so gently, he brought Silver’s face closer to his own. When their lips were mere centimeters apart he stopped. Their breaths ghosting against each others lips.

He looked into Silver’s eyes for any signs of hesitation. For any sign that he didn’t want this. He found none.

Silver was the one who moved first. Closing the gap with a little moan. As their lips met it was like a damn had broken. All the love and desire he held for this amazing man washed over him. He couldn’t get enough, he never wanted it to stop.

Flint threaded his hands through Silver’s curls, pushing his head up so he could get a better angle. He wanted to devour Silver, consume him whole, pour everything he had into him.

Somewhere along the line, Flint also started crying, their tears mixing together. They didn’t care.

Flint pulled back a bit and nibbled at Silver’s lower lip, drawing out another little moan from him. Flint wanted to see what other noises he could pull out of the man. He moved his lips down to Silver’s neck and started nibbling at the skin there.

Silver let out a small gasp and clutched at his shirt. “James… please…”

There was a knock on the door, and as if they were on fire, they sprang apart. “What is it?” Flint called out hoarsely, trying to get his bearings. Billy stuck his head through the door and there was no greater time than at that moment that Flint wished to rip his head off.

“Degroot wishes to speak to you immediately.”

Flint nodded curtly. “I’ll be there in a moment.”

Billy nodded, looking between Flint and Silver, but not saying a word, before quickly departing. An awkward silence was left in its place.

“I-”

“You should go to him,” Silver said, mask back in place. Flint almost thought what had just taken place had been a dream. With the way his mind was working lately he wouldn’t be surprised.

Swallowing sharply, Flint moved towards the door. “I’ll tell Dr. Howell to come back in.”

Silver’s hand shot out and grabbed onto his wrist. Flint froze and looked down at him, not certain where this was heading. He was almost surprised to see the pain and worry that graced Silver's features as well as the uncertainty. Silver actually looked scared in this moment. “I…”

It was all Flint needed to realize that it hadn’t just been a dream, a hallucination. He leaned down and pressed a kiss on Silver’s forehead. “We’ll talk about this later. I promise.”

Silver nodded his head, some of the worry already easing out of his posture. With that, Flint left the room and went to find Degroot. Though there was still so many problems and barriers to their relationship, Flint couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit giddy. Perhaps there was a way after all.

+

“Lord Thomas Hamilton.”

As soon as those words were spoken, Flint knew he had lost all upper hand he may have had in this conversation. He could barely even concentrate on what Rodgers was saying, the name echoing over and over in his head. How did he know? How could he have found out?

As the vile despicable man continued to talk, Flint could barely reign in his temper. How dare he use Thomas’ good name in such a way?

“Just as Thomas Hamilton would have wanted it.”

That was the final straw. Rodgers did not know what the fuck Thomas had wanted, there was no possible way. Yet he dared come in front of him and pretend like he knew what was in Thomas’ best interests? Flint thought not.

He would reign down war on Rodgers, he would reign war down on England, he would reign war down on the whole of civilization in the defense of Thomas’ name. And nobody would stop him.

+

They were waiting in Miranda’s house for Billy to report back to them. Vane expressed his confusion over the whole idea of domesticity. Flint was reminded why he used to be so confused as to how they were soulmates. His want for a quiet life away from all of this was, in his mind, an integral part of his being. As long as he had that, he could still be called a human. Vane, apparently, did not share that want, and it confounded him. It was a shame.

He wondered what Silver would want. Silver had expressed once that he wanted to get away from life at sea, from life as a pirate. He had wanted freedom and comforts and that was something that aligned perfectly with Flint’s views. Silver then, though, had wanted to get away from him too, he had also not been so attached to the crew at that point. He wondered if that wish still stood.

They hadn’t had a chance to properly talk after their kiss. They had no time to share anything more than a couple of glances. Flint was still greatly in the dark about where their relationship stood. He was also feeling a bit guilty on it having started on a lie. What would Silver say if… when he found out that he was James McGraw? Vane had been right. He should have been forthcoming in the beginning. Now it was just becoming a tangled mess.

+

It was heartwarming in a way to see two soulmates rejoin. If there was one pair that should never be apart, it was Jack and Anne.

When Vane told them to leave, though, unease filled Flint’s stomach. He knew that something bad was going to happen, but he pushed his misgivings behind and headed off with the treasure. He was probably over-thinking things. Everything would be alright.

 

Everything was not alright.

They had Vane. They fucking had Vane. Flint couldn’t even think straight. Even though Vane and him were not as close as one would think soulmates would be, he was still important in his life. He couldn’t let him die.

He was going to go after him, but Billy stopped him. He knew it made the most sense for someone less known and more conspicuous to attempt to free Vane, but it still didn’t sit right with Flint. He did not want to just leave behind another soulmate. He had already done that before and he regretted doing so ever since.

In the end, the thought of Silver made him stay. If Flint got caught in the process as well he would most likely get killed, and where would Silver be then? He knew it was horrible, choosing between one soulmate over another, but in the end, Silver held a bigger chunk of his soul than Vane did.

He let Billy go save Vane.

+

He was growing frustrated with the lack of opportunity to talk to Silver, and with it being so long since Flint had engaged in… relationship behaviour, Flint reverted back to basically being an asshole. Though, this time there was no bite behind it. Silver was not amused. Flint found it hilarious.

Then Flint found out about what Silver did to Dobbs and his worry signal was put back on high alert. Silver’s fall into darkness had to be addressed before anything else could go on further. He needed to make sure Silver was prepared for what was coming. It was obvious that there was no turning back for him, but there was still the chance that Silver wouldn’t lose control like Flint had. He just had to make sure that Silver knew he was there to help him.

+

After Mr. Scott’s funeral, Flint sat down and for some reason, pulled up his right sleeve. _~~Charles Vane.~~_ It felt like his body was filled with ice. Everything was cold and frozen. All that ran through his mind was that he should have gone. He should have gone out to save Vane. Now look — another of his soulmates was gone and dead. For a man to have started out with so many, he sure was losing them all real quick. Such was his cruel fate.

Silver came up to him, metal leg softly thumping against the wood. He was probably wanting to continue their conversation about entering the darkness, or maybe even resuming their interrupted kiss. Flint wasn’t in the mood for such things right now.

Silver stopped short when he saw him. He stared hard at the wrist for several moments before sitting down heavily beside him. “Are you going to tell the others?”

“Not yet.” It wouldn’t do to have them distracted before the battle, he needed their minds totally focused on the task.

“I’m sorry,” Silver said sincerely. Flint only nodded his head. He would have to get through this. He could not let this define him, he could not let this be the piece that tore him apart. It was dangerous and not at all fair to Silver, but he was Flint’s lifeline now, and he didn’t even have his name anymore to help ground him. It was this realization that made Flint realize that he could never be with Silver. Silver wanted to be free, wanted to prosper in his own way. To be tied down to someone so broken would feel like a cage for Silver. Silver didn’t need Flint and so Flint had to let him go. It hurt more than anything, but he knew it was for the best.

Silver deserved the world, and Flint could not provide him with that.

+

It was a couple of days before the battle and they were out burying the treasure. Well, Flint was burying the treasure, Silver was being an annoying shit and comparing Flint to a God of some sort. He didn’t know why he put up with him. Then Silver asked the one question that Flint had been dreading, yet expecting Silver to ask for a long time now. “The one in whose name this war is to be fought is still a stranger to me. Before this war actually begins, I’m asking where it actually began. Will you tell me?”

Flint put down the shovel and sat down. He stared at his hands for several long moments, sorting through his thoughts. Finally, he pulled up his sleeves, looking down at his wrists. There were three grey names on them, each with a line through them. A stark reminder of all that he had lost. On the left wrist though, there was another mark — dark pink skin that contrasted angrily against the pale white. A reminder of what he could never have, but what he wanted so badly. Silver had Madi now. He had no need for James Flint anymore. If he wanted to, Silver could take off and find the freedom he so desired with Madi. Flint wouldn’t blame him if he did, in fact he would almost be happy for him. At least one of them would get what they wanted.

Silver looked down at Flint’s wrists before taking hesitant steps forward, as if waiting for Flint to hide them away. Flint didn’t though. He wanted to see what Silver would do.

To Flint’s utmost surprise, Silver kneeled down by Flint’s knees and took both wrists in his hands. His fingers lightly traced over the name on his left wrist. “Thomas Hamilton.”

Understanding lit up in Silver’s eyes and he traced the name over and over. It brought an uncomfortable feeling in Flint’s chest, but he held still. Silver finally moved on. His brows furrowed as he lightly touched the pink scar. It was quite obvious what used to be there. He jerked his eyes up, but Flint found himself shaking his head. Something was still holding him back. He knew not what, but still, he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

Instead he told his story. His past with Thomas Hamilton and all the pain and horrors that came out of it. How he had been ruined and broken with nothing left to hold onto, and how England was all to blame. Silver listened to all of it, took it in, and accepted what Flint had to offer. He then voiced his own concerns.

They were much the same worries that Flint had, only Silver took a different view on them. Instead of Flint being Silver’s ruin, Silver would be Flint’s, and Silver was not comfortable with that idea. It was an interesting take on things, and as Flint thought it over, it may not actually be that far off. Flint would give himself entirely over to Silver. He would hold nothing back, and so it would make sense that if Silver asked for his life, Flint would give it freely. It should have unsettled Flint, made him feel uncomfortable, but instead it invigorated him. He told Silver not to worry, because in the end, that was all he could ask for in his sad excuse of a life — to die so that his love could live.

There was still that one factor that hanged over Flint that he now knew he had to confess. He had been silent for too long and he wanted all the cards to be on the table. It was only fair.

“I wasn’t always called James Flint.”

Silver’s smile turned to one of confusion. “What were you called then?”

“James McGraw.”

Silver’s face grew ashen, and he stood up abruptly. “No.”

Flint swallowed, but continued to stare steadily at Silver. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I didn’t know how to… I didn’t even want to at first.”

“All this time… you’ve known all this time.” Silver looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack. Flint got up in concern, but Silver quickly back-peddled away. “I-I told you… I _kissed_ you.”

Flint felt like he had been slapped in the face. Out of all the things Silver could have said, he had not been expecting that, and it was that which hurt the most. “Silver… I…”

“Get away from me.”

Flint froze. Silver was staring at the fire, unmoving, body as tense as a board. Flint knew there would be no reasoning with him tonight. Feeling like his heart was being torn in two, he quickly turned around and walked into the forest, back into the Maroon camp. He had known that this was not going to end well, had known that telling Silver would only lead to pain, but he had never expected it to hurt so much.

Flint could not wait for the war to come.

+

It was the night before the battle and Flint was sitting on the bed provided for him, going over his plans. Though, he was technically supposed to survive the battle tomorrow, he couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps it would be for the best if a stay bullet found its way into his skull. He had faced death far too many times and gotten away with it, his luck should run out soon. He was sure the others would be able to continue on without him… hopefully. But then, did it really matter? Once he was dead, that drive to ruin England would be gone, and he was quite certain the others could learn to live under Britain’s rule. It would probably actually suit most of them.

The sound of metal hitting wood jolted Flint out of his thoughts. Silver came into the hut, then froze, staring at Flint. They hadn’t spoken a word to each other since that night, preferring to speak through other people if they needed to go over plans. They remained cordial in each other’s presence, but there was an undeniable tension between them that people had noticed. The Maroon Queen had approached him multiple times trying to figure out what was wrong, and Flint knew that Madi was doing the same with Silver, but neither of them were saying a word. It did not affect their ability to function and lead the crew so they couldn’t complain all that much. Besides, everyone was too busy to dare make a formal inquiry.

Flint stood up, keeping his eyes on Silver, wondering why on earth would he be approaching him now. Did he want to kill him before the battle? Use his head as a truce of sorts to gain pardons? Stop this war before it even started?

His thoughts halted when Silver leapt forwards, slamming their lips together. Their teeth clashed and noses bumped harshly, but Silver just pushed against Flint harder, as if trying to mold themselves together. Flint reached up and grasped Silver’s head, tilting his head a bit so that their lips could move together more naturally, coaxing the kiss to become more tongue rather than teeth. He couldn’t quite believe that this was actually happening and wasn’t sure how to process it.

“I’m still… incredibly… mad at you,” Silver said in between kisses. Flint just chuckled inwardly and moved a hand down to Silver’s lower back, pushing them closer together. Leave it to Silver to still be chatty while they were making out.

Silver’s hands moved from where they had been grasping tightly to Flint’s jacket, down his torso and slipped under his shirt. As his fingers trailed over Flint’s skin something Flint had thought was long lost woke inside of him. With a growl, he turned Silver around and pushed him down on the bed, following him down.

Silver reached up and grasped Flint’s neck, pulling him back in for a kiss. “May I ask why you’re here then, if you are still so mad at me,” Flint asked as Silver moved away from his lips and began placing open mouth kisses along his neck. Flint had to bite his lip to suppress a moan as Silver bit down at the junction between his neck and collar bone.

“I had to give you a reason to come back to me,” Silver said. He pulled back and looked Flint in the eyes. “I know you, I know how you think, I know how you act. I know that tomorrow you would have headed out there with the intention of dying on the battle field and I can’t let that happen.”

Flint froze, it was still such a strange thing to have someone understand him so completely. “Though I’m mad at you for lying to me,” Silver continued, “I can understand why. I also will not let my anger be the reason I throw the one thing I care for away.”

Flint inhaled sharply. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought Silver would have admitted something like that. It put him in such a vulnerable position, not that Flint would ever do anything to utilize it. Perhaps that was why Silver showed such trust, because he knew that Flint would never use anything Silver gave him against him. Silver sat up, pushing Flint back. “I also know that you think that I can live, that I can survive, without you. I’m telling you right now that I can’t. I need you, more than anything in the world, and I will not have you go off on a suicide mission because you think it is for my benefit. It’s not. You’ll come back for me, okay? You will come back to me.”

He stared hard into Flint’s eyes, ensuring that Flint get his message. Flint was absolutely floored, and all he could do was nod his head, but that wasn’t good enough for Silver. “Say it. Say you’ll come back to me.”

“I’ll come back to you,” Flint whispered, his whole mindset suddenly changed. He would get through this battle, he would survive it, and he will be victorious, and he would come back to Silver.

Silver let out a relieved breath and leaned forwards, planting a firm kiss on Flint’s lips. Then, much to Flint’s confusion, he got up. “Where are you going?”

Silver laughed. “Oh, I just need insurance.”

“What?”

“Have to give you some reason to come back don’t I?”

Flint, realizing what Silver meant, shook his head. “You’re a little shit, you know that, right?”

Silver smirked, leaning down to give Flint a kiss on his forehead, quite similar to the one Flint had given to him after their first kiss. “I know, and you love me all the more for it.”

It was supposed to be a light hearted thing, but Flint felt like he had to address it more seriously. He grabbed Silver’s hand and pulled it to his mouth, placing a kiss on it. “I do.”

Silver’s breath hitched, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Mutely, Silver nodded his head, before quickly pulling back his hand and exiting the hut without another word. The place felt so much colder without Silver’s presence, but that was probably for the best. At least this time Flint knew he had something to look forward to.   

+

As the smoke cleared from the battle, Flint stepped out to the lake and stared across it towards where Silver was standing. He had made it, he had survived.

The road ahead was rocky at best, full of pitfalls and dangers. How it would play out was anyone’s guess. As he stared across to Silver, however, Flint knew that together, they could achieve the impossible. Together they could take back Nassau, make England pay, create a better world.

Together they were invincible.


End file.
